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SHANTY 

THE 

BLACKSMITH 


It  was  during  the  last  century,  and  before  the 
spirit  of  revohition  had  effected  any  change  in 
the  manners  of  our  forefathers,  that  the  events 
took  place,  which  are  about  to  be  recorded  in 
this  little  volume. 

At  that  period  there  existed  in  the  wild  border 
country,  which  lies  between  England  and  Scot- 
land, an  ancient  castle,  of  which  only  one  tower, 
a  few  chambers  in  the  main  building,  certain  of- 
fices enclosed  in  high  buttressed  walls,  and  sundry 
out-houses  hanging  as  it  were  on  those  walls, 
yet  remained.  This  castle  had  once  been  en- 
circled by  a  moat  which  had  been  suffered  to  dry 
itself  up,  thouffh  still  the  little  stream  which  used 


4  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH; 

to  fill  it  when  the  dams  were  in  repair,  murmur- 
ed and  meandered  at  the  bottom  of  the  hollow, 
and  fed  the  roots  of  many  a  water  plant  and 
many  a  tree  whose  nature  delights  in  dank  and 
swampy  soils.  The  verdure,  however,  which 
encircled  this  ancient  edifice,  added  greatly  to 
the  beauty,  when  seen  over  the  extent  of  waste 
and  wild  in  which  it  stood.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  but  that  the  ancient  possessors  of  this  cas- 
tle, which,  from  the  single  remaining  barrier, 
and  the  name  of  the  family,  was  called  Dymock's 
tower,  had  been  no  other  than  strong  and  dan- 
gerous free-booters,  living  on  the  plunder  of  the 
neighbouring  kingdom  of  Scotland.  Every  one 
knows  that  a  vast  extent  of  land,  waste  or  at  best 
but  rudely  cultivated,  had  once  belonged  to  the 
Lords  of  Dymock ;  but  within  a  few  years  this 
family  had  fallen  from  affluence,  and  were  at 
length  so  much  reduced,  that  the  present  pos- 
sessor could  hardly  support  himself  in  any  thing 
like  the  state  in  which  he  deemed  it  necessary 
for  his  father's  son  to  live.  Mr.  Dymock  was 
nearly  thirty  years  of  age,  at  the  time  our  history 
commences ;  he  had  been  brought  up  by  an  in- 
dolent father,  and  an  aunt  in  whom  no  great 
trusts  had  been  vested,  until  he  entered  his  teens, 
at  which  time  he  was  sent  to  Edinburgh  to  at- 
tend the  classes  in  the  college ;  and  there,  beinor 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  5 

a  quick  and  clever  young  man,  though  without 
any  foundation  of  early  discipline,  or  good  teach- 
ing, and  without  much  plain  judgment  or  com- 
mon sense,  he  distinguished  himself  as  a  sort  of 
genius. 

One  of  the  most  common  defects  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  are  not  early  subjected  to  regular 
discipline  is,  that  they  have  no  perseverance  ; 
they  begin  one  thing,  and  another  thing,  but 
never  carry  anything  on  to  any  purpose,  and 
this  was  exactly  the  case  with  Mr.  Dymock. 
Whilst  he  was  in  Edinburgh  lie  had  thought 
that  he  would  become  an  author;  some  injudi- 
cious persons  told  him  that  he  might  succeed  in 
that  way,  and  he  began  several  poems,  and  two 
plays,  and  he  wrote  parts  of  several  treatises  on 
Mathematics,  and  Physics,  and  Natural  History  ; 
the  very  tides  of  these  works  sound  clever,  but 
they  were  never  finished.  Dymock  was  nearly 
thirty  when  his  father  died ;  and  when  he  came 
to  reside  in  the  tower,  his  mind  turned  altogether 
to  a  new  object,  and  that  was  cultivating  the 
ground,  and  the  wild  commons  and  wastes  all 
around  him :  and  if  he  had  set  to  work  in  a  ra- 
tional way  he  might  have  done  something,  but 
before  he  began  the  work  he  must  needs  invent 
a  plough,  which  was  to  do  wonderful  things, 
and,  accordingly,  he  set  to  work,  not  only  to 
1* 


G  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

invent  this  plough,  but  to  make  it  himself,  or 
rather  to  put  it  together  himself,  with  the  help 
of  a  carpenter  and  blacksmith  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. But  before  we  introduce  the  old  black- 
smith, who  is  a  very  principal  person  in  our 
story,  we  must  describe  the  way  in  which  Mr. 
Dymock  lived  in  his  tower. 

His  aunt,  Mrs.  Margaret  Dymock,  was  his 
housekeeper,  and  so  careful  had  she  always  been, 
for  she  had  kept  house  for  her  brother,  the  late 
laird,  that  the  neighbors  said  she  had  half-starved 
herself,  in  order  to  keep  up  some  little  show  of 
old  hospitality.  In  truth,  the  poor  lady  was 
marvellously  thin,  and  as  sallow  and  gaunt  as 
she  was  thin.  Some  old  lady  who  had  stood 
for  her  at  the  font,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Se- 
cond, had,  at  her  death,  left  her  all  her  clothes, 
and  these  had  been  sent  to  Dymock's  tower  in 
several  large  chests.  Mrs.  Margaret  was  accord- 
ingly provided  for,  for  life,  with  the  addition  of 
a  little  homespun  linen,  and  stockings  of  her 
own  knitting;  but,  as  she  held  it  a  mighty  piece 
of  extravagance  to  alter  a  handsome  dress,  she 
wore  her  godmother's  clothes  in  the  fashion  in 
which  she  found  them,  and  prided  herself  not  a 
little  in  having  silks  for  every  season  of  the  year. 
Large  hoops  were  worn  in  those  days,  and  long 
ruffles,  and  sacks  short  and  long,  and  stomachers. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  7 

and  hoods,  and  sundry  other  conceits,  now  never 
thought  of;  but  Mrs.  Margaret  thought  that  all 
these  things  had  a  genteel  appearance  and  show- 
ed that  those  who  bought  them  and  those  who 
.inherited  them  had  not  come  of  nothing. 

Mrs.  Margaret,  however,  never  put  any  of 
these  fine  things  on,  till  she  had  performed  her 
household  duties,  looked  into  every  hole  and 
corner  in  the  offices,  overlooked  the  stores,  visit- 
ed the  larder,  scullery,  and  hen-yard,  weighed 
what  her  three  maids  had  spun  the  day  before, 
skimmed  the  milk  with  her  own  hands,  gather- 
ed up  the  candle  ends,  and  cut  the  cabbage  for 
the  brose  ;  all  which  being  done,  and  the  servants' 
dinner  seen  to,  and  it  must  be  confessed,  it  was 
seldom  that  they  had  a  very  sumptuous  regale, 
she  dressed  herself  as  a  lady  should  be  dressed, 
and  sate  down  to  her  darning,  which  was  her 
principal  work,  in  the  oval  window  in  the  chief 
room  in  the  castle.  Darning,  we  say,  was  her 
principal  work,  because  there  was  scarcely  an 
article  in  the  house  which  she  did  not  darn  oc- 
casionally, from  the  floor-cloth  to  her  own  best 
laces,  and,  as  money  was  seldom  forthcoming 
for  renewing  any  of  the  finer  articles  in  the 
house  capable  of  being  darned,  no  one  can  say 
what  would  have  been  the  consequence,  if  Mrs. 
Margaret  had  been  divested  of  this  darning  pro- 
pensity. 


O  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

How  the  old  lady  subsisted  herself  is  hardly- 
known,  for  it  often  happened  that  the  dinner  she 
contrived  for  her  nephew  was  barely  sufRcient 
for  him,  and  although  on  these  occasions  she  al- 
ways managed  to  seem  to  be  eating,  yet  had  Mr. 
Dymock  had  liis  eyes  about  him,  he  could  not 
but  have  seen  that  she  must  often  have  risen 
from  the  table,  after  having  known  little  more 
than  the  odor  of  the  viands.  Nothing,  however, 
which  has  been  said  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Dymock 
goes  against  that  which  might  be  said  with 
truth,  that  there  was  a  fund  of  kindness  in  the 
heart  of  the  venerable  spinster,  though  it  was 
sometimes  choked  up  and  counteracted  by  her 
desire  to  make  a  greater  appearance  than  the  fa- 
mily means  would  allow. 

Besides  the  three  maids  in  the  kitchen,  there 
were  a  man  and  a  boy  without  doors,  two  or 
three  lean  cows,  a  flock  of  sheep  which  were 
half  starved  on  the  moor,  a  great  dog,  and  sun- 
dry pigs  and  fowls  living  at  large  about  the  tow- 
er; and,  to  crown  our  description,  it  must  be 
added,  that  all  the  domestic  arrangements  which 
were  beyond  the  sphere  of  Mrs.  Margaret  were 
as  ill  managed  as  those  within  her  sphere  were 
capitally  well  conducted ;  however,  as  Mr.  Dy- 
mock said  to  her  one  day  when  she  went  to  ex- 
postulate with  him  on  this  subject,  "Only  have 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  9 

a  little  patience,  my  good  aunt,  when  I  have 
completed  what  I  am  now  about,  for  instance 
my  plough,  you  will  see  how  I  will  arrange 
every  thing.  I  cannot  suffer  these  petty  at- 
tentions and  petty  reforms  to  occupy  me 
just  now  ;  what  I  intend  to  do  will  be  done 
in  a  large  way ;  I  mean  not  only  to  repair, 
but  to  restore  the  castle,  to  throw  the  whole 
of  my  lands  to  the  north  into  a  sheep-walk, 
to  plant  the  higher  points,  and  to  convert  the 
south  lands  into  arable.  But  my  first  object 
is  the  plough,  and  that  must  be  attended  to,  be- 
fore anything  else  ;  the  wood-work  is  all  com- 
plete, but  a  little  alteration  must  be  made  in  the 
coulter,  and  after  all,  I  apprehend  I  must  do  it 
myself,  as  old  Shanty  is  as  stupid  as  his  own 
hammer." 

Mrs.  Margaret  hinted  that  every  man  had  not 
the  ingenuity  of  her  nephew  ;  adding,  however, 
that  old  Shanty  was  as  worthy  and  God-fearing 
a  man  as  any  on  the  moor. 

"  I  do  not  deny  it,"  replied  Mr.  Dyraock,  "but 
what  has  worth  and  God-fearing  to  do  with  my 
plough.  I  have  been  trying  in  vain  to  make  him 
understand  what  I  want  done,  and  am  come  to  the 
resolution  of  going  myself,  taking  off  my  coat, 
and  working  with  him  ;  I  should  make  a  better 
blacksmith  in  a  week,  than  he  has  in  forty  years." 


10  siiANTY  THE  blacksmith; 

Mrs.  Margaret  lifted  up  lier  hands  and  eyes, 
and  then  fetching  a  deep  sigh,  "  That  I  should 
hav'e  lived  to  hear  that,"  she  exclaimed;  "  the  last 
representative  of  the  house  of  Dymock  proposing 
to  work  at  a  blacksmith's  forge  !'' 

*' And  why  not?  Mrs.  Margaret,"  replied  the 
nephew,  "  does  a  gentleman  lower  himself  when 
he  works  merely  for  recreation,  and  not  for  sor- 
did pelf;  you   have  heard  of  Peter  the  Great?" 

*'  Bless  me,  nephew,"  replied  the  spinster,  bri- 
dling, "  where  do  you  think  my  ears  have  been 
all  my  life,  if  I  never  heard  of  Peter  the  great?" 

*'  You  know  then,  that  he  worked  with  his  own 
hands  at  a  blacksmith's  forge,"  returned  the  ne- 
phew. 

"  I  know  no  such  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Margaret, 
"  and  if  the  Romans  say  so,  T  account  it  only  ano- 
ther of  their  many  lies  ;  and  I  wonder  they  are 
not  ashamed  to  invent  tales  so  derogotary  to  the 
honor  of  him  they  call  their  head  !" 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  the  laird  ;  "  I  am  not  speaking 
of  the  Pope,  but  of  the  Czar  of  all  the  Russias  !" 

"  Well !  well !  Dymock  ;"  returned  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet, "I  only  wish  that  I  could  persuade  you 
from  committing  this  derogation.  However,  if 
you  mustneeds  work  witli  Shanty,  let  me  beg  you 
to  put  on  one  of  your  old  shirts  ;  for  the  sparks 
will  be  sure  to  fly,  and  there  will  be  no  end  of 
darning  the  small  burns." 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  1  1 

"Be  assured  aunt,"  said  Mr.  Dymor-k,  ^'  that 
I  shall  do  nothing  by  halves;  if  I  work  with 
Shanty,  I  shall  put  on  a  leather  apron,  and  tuck 
up  my  sleeves." 

"  All  this  does  not  suit  my  notions,"  replied 
Mrs.  Margaiet:  but  her  nephew  had  risen  to 
leave  her,  and  there  was  an  end  to  the  argument. 

As  Mr.  Dymock  had  told  his  aunt,  so  he  did; 
he  went  to  Shanty's  forge,  he  dressed  himself 
like  the  old  master  himself,  and  set  fairly  to  work, 
to  learn  the  mysteries  of  the  trade  ;  mysteries 
which,  however,  as  far  as  Shanty  knew  them, 
were  not  very  deep. 

There  has  not  often  been  a  more  ill-arranged 
and  unsettled  mind  than  that  of  Mr.  Dymock  ; 
his  delight  was  in  anything  new,  and  for  a  few 
days  he  would  pursue  this  novelty  with  such 
eagerness,  that  during  the  time  he  seemed  to  for- 
get every  thing  else.  It  was  a  delicate  job,  and 
yet  one  requiring  strength  which  was  needed  for 
the  plough.  Shanty  had  told  the  laird  at  once, 
that  it  was  beyond  his  own  skill  or  strength, 
seeing  that  he  was  old  and  feeble,  "  and  as  to 
your  doing  it,  sir,"  he  said,  "who  cannot  yet 
shape  a  horse-shoe  !  you  must  serve  longer  than 
a  week,  before  you  get  that  much  knowledge  of 
the  craft;  there  is  no  royal  way  to  learning,  and 
even  for  the  making  of  a  horse-shoe,  a  'prentice- 


12  SHANTY   THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

ship  must  he  served,  anil  I  mistake  me  very 
much  if  you  don't  tire  before  seven  days'  service 
are  over,  let  alone  as  many  years." 

But  Mr.  Dymock  had  as  yet  served  only  two 
days,  when  one  evening  a  young  man,  a  dark, 
athletic,  bold-looking  youth,  entered  the  black- 
smith's shed.  It  was  an  evening  in  autumn,  and 
the  shed  was  far  from  any  house ;  Dymock's 
Tower  was  the  nearest,  and  the  sun  was  already 
so  low  that  the  old  keep  with  its  many  moulder- 
ing walls,  and  out-buildings,  was  seen  from  the 
shed,  standmg  in  high  relief  against  the  golden 
sky.  As  the  young  man  entered,  looking  bold-, 
ly  about  him,  Shanty  asked  him  what  he 
wanted. 

"I  want  a  horse-shoe,"  he  replied. 

"A  horse-shoe!"  returned  the  blacksmith, 
"  and  where's  your  horse  .^" 

"  I  has  no  other  horse  than  Adam's  mare,"  he 
replied;  ♦'  I  rides  no  other,  but  I  want  a  horse- 
shoe." 

*' You  are  a  pretty  fellow,"  returned  Shanty, 
"  to  want  a  horse-shoe,  and  to  have  never  a 
horse  to  wear  him." 

*'  Did  you  never  hear  of  no  other  use  for  a 
horse-shoe,  besides  protecting  a  horse's  hoof?" 
replied  the  youth. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES  13 

"I  have,"  returned  the  blacksmith,  "  I  have 
heard  fools  say,  that  neither  witch  nor  warlock 
can  cross  a  threshold  that  has  a  horse-shoe  nail- 
ed over  it.  But  mind  I  tell  you,  it  must  be  a 
cast  shoe." 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  "  suppose  that  I 
am  plagued  with  one  of  them  witches  ;  and  sup- 
pose that  I  should  have  bethought  me  of  the 
horse-slioe,  what  would  you  think  of  me  then  ? 
What  may  that  be  which  you  are  now  shaping; 
why  may  it  not  serve  my  turn  as  well  as  ano- 
ther ?  so  let  me  have  it,  and  you  shall  have  its 
worth  down  on  the  nail." 

"Did  not  I  tell  you,"  said  Shanty,  sullenly, 
"  that  it  must  be  a  cast  shoe  that  must  keep  off 
a  witch ;  every  fool  allows  that." 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  looking  about 
him,  "  have  you  never  a  cast  shoe  ?" 

*'  No,"  replied  Shanty,  "  I  have  none  here  fit 
for  your  turn." 

"I  am  not  particular,"  returned  the  young 
man, "  about  the  shoe  being  an  old  one  ;  there  is  as 
much  virtue,  to  my  thinking,  in  a  new  one ;  so 
let  me  have  that  you  are  about." 

"You  shall  have  none  of  my  handiworks,  I 

tell  you,"  said  Shanty,  decidedly,  "for  none  of 

your  heathenish  fancies  and  follies.     The  time 

was  when  I  lent  myself  to  these  sort  of  follies, 

2 


14  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

but,  thank  my  God,  I  have  learned  to  cast  away, 
aye,  and  to  condemn  such  degrading  thoughts 
as  these.  Believe  me,  young  man,  that  if  God 
is  on  your  side,  neither  witch  nor  warlock,  or 
worse  than  either,  could  ever  hurt  you." 

"Well,"  said  the  young  man,  "if  you  will 
not  make  me  one,  will  you  let  me  make  one  for 
myself?" 

"Are  you  a  smith  ?"  said  Mr.  Dymock,  before 
Shanty  could  reply. 

"Am  I  a  smith?"  answered  the  young  man; 
"I  promise  you,  I  should  think  little  of  myself 
if  I  was  not  as  much  above  him,  (pointing  to 
Shanty,  who  was  hammering  at  his  horse-shoe, 
with  his  back  towards  him,)  as  the  sun  is  bright- 
er than  the  stars." 

Shanty  took  no  notice  of  this  piece  of  inso- 
lence ;  but  Mr.  Dymock  having  asked  the  stran- 
ger a  few  more  questions,  proceeded  to  show  him 
the  job  he  wanted  done  to  his  plough,  and  from 
one  thing  to  another,  the  young  man  undertook 
to  accomplish  it  in  a  few  hours,  if  the  master 
of  the  shed  would  permit.  Shanty  did  by  no 
means  seem  pleased,  and  yet  could  not  refuse  to 
oblige  Mr.  Dymock ;  he,  however,  remarked, 
that  if  the  coulter  was  destroyed,  it  was  no  odds 
to  him.  The  young  stranger,  however,  soon 
made  it  appear  that  he  was  no  mean  hand  at  the 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  15 

work  of  a  blacksmith  ;  he  had  not  only  strength, 
but  skill  and  ingenuity,  and  in  a  short  time  had 
so  deeply  engaged  the  attention  of  Dymock  by 
his  suggestions  of  improvements  to  this  same 
plough,  that  the  young  laird  saw  none  but  him, 
and  allowed  the  evening  to  close  in,  and  the 
darkness  of  night  to  cover  the  heath,  whilst  still 
engaged  in  talking  to  the  stranger,  and  hearken- 
ing, to  his  ingenious  comments  on  the  machinery 
of  the  plough. 

In  the  meantime,  although  the  sun  had  set  in 
golden  glory,  dark  and  dense  clouds  had  covered 
the  heavens,  the  wind  had  risen  and  whistled 
dismally  over  the  moor,  and  a  shower  of  mingled 
rain  and  sleet  blew  into  the  shed,  one  side  of 
which  was  open  to  the  air.  It  was  in  the  midst 
of  this  shower,  that  a  tall  gaunt  female,  covered 
with  a  ragged  cloak,  and  having  one  child  slung 
on  her  back,  and  another  much  older  in  her  hand, 
presented  herself  at  the  door  of  the  shed,  and 
speaking  in  a  broad  northern  dialect,  asked  per- 
mission to  shelter  herself  and  her  bairns,  for  a 
little  space  in  the  corner  of  the  hut.  Neither 
Dymock  nor  the  young  man  paid  her  any  regard, 
or  seemed  to  see  her,  but  Shanty  made  her  wel- 
come, and  pointing  to  a  bench  which  was  within 
the  glow  of  the  fire  of  the  forge,  though  out  of 
harm's  way  of  sparks  or  strokes,  the  woman  came 


16  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

in,  and  having  with  the  expertness  of  long  use, 
shing  the  chikl  from  her  back  into  her  arms,  she 
sate  down,  hiving  tlie  little  one  across  her  knee, 
whilst  the  eldest  of  the  two  children  dropped  on 
the  bare  earth  with  which  the  shed  was  floored, 
and  began  nibbling  a  huge  crust  which  the 
mother  put  into  his  hand. 

In  the  meantime,  work  went  on  as  before  the 
woman  had  come  in,  nor  was  a  word  spoken,  till 
Shanty,  looking  up  from  the  horse-shoe  which  he 
was  hammering,  remarked  in  his  own  mind,  that 
he  wondered  that  the  little  one  stretched  on  the 
woman's  knee,  was  not  awakened  and  frightened 
by  the  noise  of  the  forge  ;  but  there  the  creature 
lies,  he  thought,  as  if  it  had  neither  sense  or 
hearing.  When  this  strange  thought  suggested 
itself,  the  old  man  dropped  his  hammer,  and  fix- 
ing his  eye  on  the  infant,  he  seemed  to  ask  him- 
self these  questions, — What,  if  the  child  should 
be  dead  ?  would  a  living  child,  drop  as  that  did 
from  the  back  of  the  woman  on  her  lap,  like  a 
lump  of  clay,  nor  move,  nor  utter  a  moan,  when 
thrown  across  its  mother's  lap  ?  Urged  then  by 
anxiety,  he  left  his  anvil,  approached  the  woman, 
and  stood  awhile  gazing  at  the  child,  though  un- 
able for  some  minutes  to  satisfy  himself,  or  to  put 
away  the  horrible  fear  that  he  might  perchance 
be  looking  at  a  body  without  life.     Mr.  Dymock 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  17 

was  acting  the  part  of  bellows-blower,  in  order 
to  assist  some  work  which  the  young  stranger 
was  carrying  on  in  the  fire.  The  lad  who  gen- 
erally performed  this  service  for  Shanty,  had  got 
permission  for  a  few  hours,  to  visit  his  mother 
over  the  Border,  Mr.  Dymock  having  told  him  in 
all  kindness  that  he  would  blow  for  him  if  needs 
must.  But  the  fitful  light — the  alternate  glow 
and  comparative  darkness  which  accompanied 
and  kept  time  with  the  motion  of  the  bellows, 
made  it  almost  impossible  for  the  old  man  to  sat- 
isfy himself  concerning  his  horrible  imagination. 
He  saw  that  the  infant  who  lay  so  still  on  the 
woman's  lap,  was  as  much  as  two  years  of  age; 
that,  like  the  woman,  it  had  dark  hair,  and  that 
its  complexion  was  olive  ;  and  thus  he  was  put 
out  in  his  first  notion,  that  the  child  might  per- 
chance be  a  stolen  one.  But  the  bellows  had 
filled  and  exhausted  themselves  many  times  before 
his  mind  was  set  at  rest  with  regard  to  his  first 
fearful  thought ;  at  length,  however,  tlie  child 
moved  its  arm,  and  muttered  a  low  moan,  though 
without  rousing  itself  from  its  sleep  ;  on  which 
Shanty,  being  satisfied,  turned  back  to  his  block 
and  his  liorse-shoe,  and  another  half-hour  or  more 
passed,  during  which  the  tempest  subsided,  the 
clouds  broke  and  began  to  disappear,  and  the 
stars  to  come  forth  one  by  one,  pointing  out  the 
2* 


18  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH; 

direction  of  the  heavens  to  the  experienced  eye 
of  the  ni<Tht-walkinff  traveller.  The  woman  ob- 
serving  this,  arose,  and  taking  the  sleeping  babe 
in  her  arms  whilst  the  other  child  clung  to  her 
cloak,  she  thanked  the  blacksmith  for  the  conve- 
nience of  the  shelter  which  he  had  given  her ; 
when  he,  with  the  courtesy  of  one  who,  though 
poor  and  lowly,  had  been  admitted  to  high  con- 
ference with  his  Redeemer,  invited  her  to  stay 
longer — all  night  if  she  pleased — regretting  only 
that  he  had  nothing  to  offer  her  but  a  bed  of 
straw,  and  a  sup  of  sowens  for  the  little  ones. 

"For  which,"  she  replied,  "1  thank  you; 
what  can  any  one  give  more  than  what  he  has  ? 
But  time  is  precious  to  me,  this  night  I  must  be 
over  the  Border;  mind  me,  however,  I  shall  re- 
member you,  and  mayhap  may  call  again."  So 
saying,  she  passed  out  of  the  slied,  almost  as 
much  disregarded  by  Dymock  in  her  going  out, 
as  she  had  been  in  coming  in. 

And  now,  for  another  hour,  the  strokes  of  the 
hammers  of  old  Shanty  and  the  young  stranger 
might  have  been  heard  far  over  the  moor  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  for  the  wind  had  entirely 
died  away,  and  the  fitful  glare  of  the  forge,  still 
shone  as  a  beacon  over  the  heath.  At  length, 
liowever,  the  job  which  the  stranger  had  under- 
taken was  finished,  and  Dymock,  having  given 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  19 

liim  a  silver  piece,  tlie  only  one  in  his  pocket, 
the  young  man  took  his  leave,  saying  as  he  went 
out,  and  whilst  he  tossed  the  silver  in  his  hand — 
"  Well,  if  I  have  not  got  what  I  came  for,  I  have 
got  that  which  is  as  good,  and  in  return  for  your 
civility,  old  gentleman,"  he  added,  addressing 
Shanty,  "  I  give  you  a  piece  of  advice ;  nail  the 
horse-slioc,  wliich  you  would  not  spare  to  me, 
over  your  own  door,  for  I  tell  you,  that  you  are 
in  no  small  danger  of  being  over-reached  by  the 
very  warlock,  who  has  haunted  my  steps  for 
many  a  day." 

So  saying,  he  went  gaily,  and  with  quickstep, 
out  of  the  shed,  and  his  figure  soon  disappeared 
in  a  ravine  or  hollow  of  the  moor. 

In  the  mean  time,  Dymock  and  Shanty  stood 
at  the  door.  The  former  being  full  of  excite- 
ment, respecting  the  wonderful  sagacity  of  the 
singular  stranger,  and  the  other  being  impatient 
to  see  the  master  off,  as  he  wanted  to  shut  up  his 
shed,  and  to  retire  to  the  little  chamber  within, 
which  served  him  for  sleeping  apartment,  kitchen, 
and  store-room,  not  to  say  study,  for  our  worthy 
Shanty  never  slept  without  studying  the  Holy 
Word  of  God. 

But  whilst  these  two  were  standing,  as  we  said, 
at  the  door,  suddenly,  a  low  moan  reached  their 
cars,  as  coming  from  their  left,  where  thereof  of 


20  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

the  shed  being  lengthened  out,  afforded  shelter  for 
any  carts,  or  even,  on  occasion,  waggons,  which 
might  be  brought  there,  for  such  repairs  as 
Shanty  could  give  them.  At  that  time,  there 
was  only  one  single  cart  in  the  shed,  and  the  cry 
seemed  to  come  from  the  direction  of  this  cart. 
Dymock  and  Shanty  were  both  starded  at  the 
cry,  and  stood  in  silence  for  a  minute  or  more,  to 
ascertain  if  it  were  repeated.  Another  low  moan 
presently  ensued,  and  then  a  full  outcry,  as  of  a 
terrified  child.  Dymock  and  Shanty  looked  at 
each  other,  and  Siianty  said,  "  It  is  the  beggar 
woman.  She  is  still  skulking  about,  I  will  be 
bound  ;  hark  !  "  he  added,  "listen  !  she  will  be 
stillinor  the  child,  she's  grot  under  the  cart."  But 
the  child  continued  to  screech,  and  there  was 
neither  threat  nor  blandishment  used  to  still  the 
cries. 

Dymock  seemed  to  be  so  thoroughly  astound- 
ed, that  he  could  not  stir,but  Shanty  going  in, 
presently  returned  with  a  lighted  lanthorn,  and 
an  iron  crow-bar  in  his  hand  ;  "  and  now,"  he 
said,  "  Mr.  Dymock,  we  shall  see  to  this  noise," 
and  they  both  turned  into  the  outbuilding,  ex- 
pecting to  have  to  encounter  the  tall  beggar,  and 
with  her  perhaps,  a  gang  of  vagrants.  They, 
however,  saw  only  the  infant  of  two  years'  old, 
who  had  lain  like  a  thing  dead  on  the  woman' 5« 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  21 

lap,  though  not  dead,  as  Shanty  had  feared,  but 
stupified  with  hoUands,  the  very  breath  of  the 
baby  smelling  of  the  spirit  when  Dymock  lifted 
it  out  of  the  cart  and  brought  it  into  the  interior 
shed.  Shanty  did  not  return,  till  he  had  investi- 
gated every  hole  and  corner  of  his  domain,  with 
the  crow-bar  in  one  hand,  and  the  lanthorn  in 
the  other. 

The  baby  had  ceased  to  cry,  when  brought 
into  the  shed,  and  feeling  itself  in  the  arms  of  a 
fellow-creature,  had  yielded  to  the  influence  of 
the  liquor,  and  had  fallen  again  into  a  dead 
sleep,  dropping  back  on  the  bosom  of  Mr.  Dy- 
mock. 

"  They  are  all  off,"  said  Shanty,  as  he  enter- 
ed the  house,  *'  and  have  left  us  this  present. 
We  have  had  need,  as  that  young  rogue  said,  of 
the  horse-shoe  over  our  door.  We  have  been 
over-reached  for  once ;  that  little  one  is  stolen 
goods,  be  sure,  Mr.  Dymock, — some  great  man's 
child  for  aught  we  know, — the  wicked  woman 
will  not  call  again  very  soon,  as  she  promised, 
and  what  are  we  to  do  with  the  child  ?  Had  my 
poor  wife  been  living,  it  might  have  done,  but 
she  is  better  off!      What  can  I  do  with  it?" 

*'  I  must  take  it  up  to  the  Tower,"  said  Mr. 
Dymock,  "  and  see  if  my  aunt  Margaret  will  take 
to  it,  and  if  she  will   not,   why,  then  there  are 


22  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

charity  schools,  and  poor-houses  to  be  had  re- 
course to  ;  yet  I  don't  fear  her  kind  heart." 

"  Nor  I  neither,  Mr.  Dymock,"  said  Shanty, 
and  the  old  ma^  drew  near  to  the  child,  and  hold- 
ing up  his  lanthorn  to  the  sleeping  baby,  he  said, 
"  What  like  is  it  ?  Gipsy,  or  Jew  ?  one  or  the 
other  ;  those  features,  if  they  were  washed,  might 
not  disgrace  Sarah  or  Rachel." 

"  The  mouth  and  the  form  of  the  face  are  Gre- 
cian," said  Dymock,  "but  the  bust  is  oriental.'* 

Shanty  looked  hard  at  his  patron,  as  trying  to 
understand  what  he  meant  by  oriental  and  Gre- 
cian; and  then  repeated  his  question,  "  Gipsy  or 
Jew,  Mr.  Dymock?  for  I  am  sure  the  little  crea- 
ture is  not  of  our  northern  breed." 

"  We  shall  see  by  and  by,"  said  Dymock, 
"  the  question  is,  what  is  to  be  done  now?  lam 
afraid  that  aunt  Margaret  will  look  prim  and 
stately  if  I  carry  the  little  one  up  to  the  Tower  ; 
however,  I  see  not  what  else  to  do.  Who  is 
afraid  ?  But  put  your  fire  out.  Shanty,  and  come 
with  us.  You  shall  carry  the  bantling,  and  I  will 
take  the  lanthorn.  Mayhap,  aunt  Margaret  may 
think  this  arrangement  the  more  genteel  of  the 
two.     So  let  it  be." 

And  it  was  so  ;  old  Shanty  turned  into  child- 
keeper,  and  the  Laird  into  lanthorn-carrier,  and 
the  party  directed  their  steps  towards  the  Tow- 
er, and  much  talk  had  they  by  the  way. 


A  TALE   OF   OTHER  TIMES.  23 

Now,  as  we  have  said  before,  there  was  a  fund 
of  kindness  in  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Dy- 
mock,  which  kindness  is  often  more  consistent 
than  some  people  suppose,  with  attention  to  eco- 
nomy, especially  when  that  economy  is  needful; 
and  moreover,  she  had  lately  lost  a  favorite  cat, 
which  had  been,  as  she  said,  quite  a  daughter  to 
her.  Therefore  the  place  of  a  pet  happened  to  be 
vacant  just  at  that  time,  which  was  much  in  fa- 
vor of  the  forlorn  child's  interests.  Dymock 
had  taken  Shanty  with  him  into  the  parlor,  in 
which  Mrs.  Margaret  sat  at  her  darning  ;  and 
he  had. suggested  to  the  old  man,  that  he  might 
just  as  well  tell  the  story  himself  for  his  aunt's 
information,  and  account  for  the  presence  of  the 
infant;  and,  in  his  own  words,  Mrs.  Margaret 
took  all  very  well,  and  even  did  not  hint  that  if 
her  nephew  had  been  in  his  own  parlour,  instead 
of  being  in  a  place  where  vagrants  were  sheltered, 
he  would  at  all  events  have  been  out  of  this 
scrape.  But  the  little  one  had  awoke,  and  had 
begun  to  weep,  and  the  old  lady's  heart  was 
touched,  so  she  called  one  of  the  maids,  and  told 
her  to  feed  the  babe  and  put  it  to  sleep  ;  after 
which,  having  ordered  that  Shanty  should  be  re- 
galed with  the  bladebone  of  a  shoulder  of  mutton, 
she  withdrew  to  her  room  to  think  what  was 
next  to  be  done. 


24  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

The  result  of  Mrs.  Margaret's  thoughts  were, 
that  come  what  might,  the  child  must  be  taken 
care  of  for  a  few  days,  and  must  be  washed  and 
clothed  ;  and  as  the  worthy  lady  had  ever  had 
the  habit  of  laying  by,  in  certain  chests  and  boxes 
piled  on  each  other  in  her  large  bed-room,  all  the 
old  garments  of  the  family  not  judged  fitting  for 
the  wear  of  cottagers,  she  had  nothing  more  to  do 
than  by  the  removal  of  half-a-dozen  trunks,  to 
get  at  a  deal  box,  which  contained  the  frocks,  and 
robes,  and  other  garments  which  her  nephew  had 
discarded  when  he  put  on  jacket  and  trousers. 
From  these  she  selected  one  of  the  smallest  suits, 
and  they  might  have  been  seen  airing  at  the 
kitclien  fire  by  six  o'clock  that  morning.  Hot 
water  and  soap  were  next  put  in  requisition,  and 
as  soon  as  the  baby  awoke,  she  was  submitted  to 
such  an  operation  by  the  kitchen  fire,  as  it  would 
appear  she  had  not  experienced  for  a  long  time. 
The  little  creature  was  terribly  frightened  when 
soused  in  the  water,  and  screeched  in  a  pitiful 
manner ;  the  tears  running  from  her  eyes,  and 
the  whole  of  her  small  person  being  in  a  violent 
tremor.  The  maids,  however,  made  a  thorough 
job  of  it,  and  scoured  the  foundling  from  head  to 
foot.  At  length  Mrs.  Margaret,  who  sat  by,  di- 
recting the  storm,  with  a  sheet  across  her  lap  and 
towels  in  her  hand,  pronounced  the  ablution  as 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  25 

being  complete,  and  the  babe  was  lifted  from  the 
tub,  held  a  moment  to  drip,  and  then  set  on  the 
lap  of  the  lady,  and  now  the  babe  seemed  to  find 
instant  relief.  The  little  creature  was  no  sooner 
placed  on  Mrs.  Margaret's  knee,  than,  by  some 
strange  and  unknown  association,  she  seemed  to 
think  that  she  had  found  an  old  friend — some 
faintly  remembered  nurse  or  mother, — whom  she 
had  met  again  in  Mrs.  Dymock,  and  quivering 
with  delight,  she  sprang  on  her  feet  on  the  lady's 
lap,  and  grasped  her  neck  in  her  arms,  pressing 
her  little  ruby  lips  upon  her  cheek  ;  and  on  one 
of  the  maids  approaching  again  with  some  of  her 
clothes,  she  strained  her  arms  more  closely  round 
Mrs.  Margaret,  and  perfectly  danced  on  her  lap 
with  terror  lest  she  should  be  taken  away  from 
her. 

*'  Lord  help  the  innocent  babe  !"  said  the  old 
lady,  <'what  is  come  to  her?"  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet'g  eyes  were  full  of  tears  ;  but  the  good  la- 
dy then  soothed  and  caressed  the  babe,  and  in- 
structed her  to  sit  down  on  her  knees,  whilst  she 
directed  the  servant  to  assist  in  dressing  her. 
But  no,  no,  it  would  not  do  ;  no  one  was  to 
touch  her  but  Mrs.  Margaret;  and  the  old  lady, 
drawing  herself  up,  at  length  said, — "  Well,  Ja- 
net, we  must  give  way,  I  suppose  ;  it  seems  that 
I  am  to  be  the  favorite  ;  there  is  something  in 
3 


26  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

my  physiognomy  Avhich  has  taken  the  child's 
fancy  ;  come,  hand  me  the  clothes,  I'tnust  try 
my  skill  in  dressing  this  capricious  little  dame." 
Mrs.  Margaret  was  evidently  pleased  by  the  poor 
orphan's  preference,  and  whilst  she  was  dressing 
the  infant,  there  was  time  to  discover  that  the 
little  child  was  a  perfect  beanty  in  her  way ;  the 
form  of  her  face  being  oval,  the  features  exqui- 
site, the  eyes  soft,  yet  sparkling,  and  the  lips 
delicately  formed.  The  hair,  of  raven  black, 
was  clustered  and  curling,  and  the  head  set  on 
the  shoulders  in  a  way  worthy  of  the  daughters 
of  kings  ;  but  the  servants  pointed  out  on  the 
arm  of  the  infant,  a  peculiar  mark  which  was 
not  natural,  but  which  had  evidently  been  burnt 
therein.  One  said  it  was  a  fan,  and  another  a 
feather ;  but  Mrs.  Margaret  augured  vast  things 
from  it,  pronouncing  that  the  child  surely  be- 
longed to  some  great  person,  and  that  no  one 
could  say  what  might  be  the  consequence  of 
kindness  shown  to  such  a  child. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Dymock  came  down  into  the 
breakfast-room,  Mrs.  Margaret  came  swimming 
in  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  exclaiming,  "  A 
pretty  piece  of  work  you  have  done  forme, 
nephew  !  I  am  under  a  fine  servitude  now;"  and 
she  primmed  up  her  mouth,  but  her  eye  laughed, 
— -"  little  Miss  here,  chooses  to  be  waited  on  by 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  27 

me,  and  me  only;  and  here  I  am,  with  nothnig 
to  do  but  to  attend  on  my  lady." 

"  Little  Miss,"  said  Mr.  Dymock,  "  what  lit- 
tle Miss  ?  who  have  you  got  there  ?" 

"  Neither  more  nor  less,"  replied  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet, "than  your  foundling." 

"Impossible!"  said  Mr.  Dymock:  "Why, 
what  have  you  done  to  her?" 

"  Merely  washed,  combed  and  dressed  her," 
said  Mrs.  Margaret;  "give  me  credit,  nephew, 
and  tell  me  what  I  have  brought  out  by  my  dili- 
gence." 

"  You  have  brought  out  a  brilliant  from  an  un- 
finished stone,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Dymock  ;  "that 
is  a  beautiful  child  ;  I  shall  have  extreme  delight 
in  making  as  much  of  that  fine  miind,  as  you 
have  done  with  that  beautiful  exterior." 

"  Then  you  do  not  think  of  putting  her  in  a 
foundling  hospital  or  a  workhouse,  nephew,  as 
you  proposed  last  night  ?"  said  Mrs.  Margaret, 
with  a  smile. 

"  It  would  be  a  folly,"  replied  the  nephew, 
"  to  degrade  such  a  creature  as  that;"  and  he  at- 
tempted to  kiss  the  baby;  but,  swift  as  thought, 
she  had  turned  her  face  away,  and  was  clinging 
to  Mrs.  Margaret. 

The  old  lady  primmed  up  again  with  much 
complacency,  "  Did  I  not  tell  you,  nephew,  how 


28  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

it  was,"  she  said,  "  nothing  will  do  but  Aunt 
Margaret.  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  give  her  my 
poor  pussy's  corner  in  my  bed.  But  now  her 
back  is  turned  to  you,  Dymock,  observe  the  sin- 
gular mark  on  her  shoulder,  and  tell  me  what  it 
is." 

Mr.  Dymock  saw  this  mark  with  amazement: 
— He  saw  that  it  was  no  natural  mark ;  and  at 
length,  though  not  till  after  he  had  examined  it 
many  times,  he  made  it  out,  or  fancied  he  had 
done  so,  to  be  a  branch  of  a  palm  tree.  From 
the  first  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  this  was 
a  Jewish  child  ;  and,  following  the  idea  of  the 
palm-tree,  and  tracing  the  word  in  a  Hebrew 
lexicon, — for  he  was  a  Hebrew  scholar,  though 
not  a  deep  one, — he  found  that  Tamar  was  the 
Hebrew  for  a  palm  tree.  "  And  Tamar  it  shall 
be,"  he  said  ;  "  this  maid  of  Judah,  this  daughter 
of  Zion  shall  be  called  Tamar;"  and  he  carried 
his  point,  although  Mrs.  Margaret  made  many 
objections,  saying  it  was  not  a  Christian  name, 
and  therefore  not  proper  for  a  child  who  was 
to  be  brought  up  as  a  Christian.  However,  as 
Mr.  Dymock  had  given  up  his  whim  of  learning 
the  business  of  a  smith  since  the  adventure  which 
has  been  so  fully  related,  and  had  forgotten  the 
proposed  experiment  of  turning  up  the  whole 
moor   round  the   Tower  with  his  new-fangled 


A  TALE  or  OTHER  TIMES.  29 

plough, — that  plough  having  ceased  to  be  an  ob- 
ject of  desire  to  him  as  soon  as  it  was  completed, 
— she  thought  it  best  to  give  way  to  this  whim 
of  giving  the  child  so  strange  a  name,  and  actu- 
ally stood  herself  at  the  font,  as  principal  sponser 
for  little  Tamar. 

Thus,  the  orphan  was  provided  with  a  happy 
home;  nor,  as  Mrs.  Margaret  said,  did  she  ever 
miss  the  child's  litde  bite  and  sup.  After  a  few 
days,  the  babe  would  condescend  to  leave  Mrs. 
Margaret,  when  required  to  go  to  the  servants. 
She  would  even,  when  directed  so  to  do,  steal 
across  the  floor,  and  accept  a  seat  on  Mr.  Dy- 
mock's  knee,  and  gradually  she  got  very  fond  of 
him.  Nor  was  her  affection  unrequited  ;  he  had 
formed  a  theory  about  her, — and  it  was  not  a 
selfish  theory,  for  he  never  expected  to  gain  any- 
thing by  her, — but  he  believed  that  she  was  of 
noble  but  unfortunate  Jewish  parentage,  and  he 
built  his  theory  on  the  singular  grace  and  beauty 
of  her  person.  At  all  events,  he  never  doubted 
but  that  she  was  a  Jewess ;  and  he  talked  of  it, 
and  thought  of  it,  till  he  was  entirely  convinced 
that  it  was  so,  and  had  convinced  his  aunt  also, 
and  established  the  persuasion  in  the  minds  of 
most  persons  about  him. 

If  Mr.  Dymock  was  not  a  genius,  he  had  all 
the  weaknesses  commonlj'  attributed  to  genius, 


30  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

and  in  consequence,  was  as  useless  a  being  as 
ever  cumbered  the  ground  ;  yet  he  was  generally 
loved,  and  no  one  loved  him  more  than  Tamar 
did,  after  she  had  got  over  her  first  baby  fear  of 
him.     But  Mrs.  Margaret,  who  had  no  preten- 
sions to  genius,  was  the  real  benefactor  of  this 
child,  and  as  far  as   the  lady  was  concerned  in 
bringing  her  up,  performed  the  part  of  a  truly 
affectionate  mother.     Her  first  effort  was  made 
to  bring  the  will  of  the  child,  which  was  a  lofty 
one,  under  subjection  to  her  own  ;  and  the  next, 
to  give  her  habits  of  industry  and  self  denial. 
She  told  her  that  whatever  she  might  hear  re- 
specting her  supposed  parentage,  she  was  merely 
a  child  without  pretensions,  and  protected  from 
motives  of  love,  and  of  love  only  ;  that  her  pro- 
tectors were  poor,  and  ever  likely  to  remain  so, 
and  that  what   God   required  of  her,    was  that 
when  able,  she  should  assist  them  as  they  had 
assisted  her  in  helpless  infancy.     As  to  religion, 
Mrs.  Margaret  taught  her  what  she  herself  knew 
and  believed  ;  but  her  views  were  dark  and  in- 
complete, she  saw  not  half  as  much  of  the  great 
mystery  of  salvation,   as  had  been   revealed  to 
Shanty  in  his  hut ;  yet,  the  desire  of  doing  right 
in  the  sight  of  God,  had  been  imparted  to  her, 
and  this  desire  was  a  fixed  principle,  and  did  not 
appear  to  be  affected  by  her  want  of  knowledge. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  31 

As  to  forms,  Mrs.  Margaret  had  her  own,  and 
she  was  very  attentive  to  them,  but  she  had  very- 
small  opportunity  of  public  worship,  as  there  was 
no  church  within  some  miles  of  the  Tower.  In 
the  meantime,  whilst  the  old  lady  went  plodding 
on  in  her  own  quiet  way,  teaching  the  little  girl 
all  she  knew  herself,  Mr.  Dymock  was  planning 
great  things  by  way  of  instruction  for  Tamar. 
He  was  to  teach  her  to  read  her  native  language 
as  he  called  the  Hebrew,  and  to  give  her  various 
accomplishments,  for  he  had  dipped  into  innume- 
rable branches,  not  only  of  the  sciences,  but  of 
the  arts ;  and  as  he  happened  to  have  met  with  a 
mind  in  Tamar  which  was  as  rapid  as  his  own, 
though  far  more  plodding  and  persevering,  the 
style  of  teaching  which  he  gave  her,  produced 
far  richer  fruit  than  could  possibly  have  been  ex- 
pected. But  as  Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day, 
neither  must  it  be  supposed  that  good  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet had  not  many  a  laborious,  if  not  weary 
hour  before  her  part  of  the  care  necessary  to  the 
well-rearing  of  the  child,  was  so  complete  that 
the  worthy  woman  might  sit  down  and  expect  a 
small  return  ;  for,  as  she  was  wont  to  say,  the 
child  could  not  be  made,  for  years  after  she  could 
hold  a  needle,  to  understand  that  the  threads 
should  not  be  pulled  as  tight  in  darning  as  in  hem 
stitch,  and  this,  she  would  sav,  was  unaccountable 


32  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

considering  how  docile  the  child  was  in  other  mat- 
ters ;  and,  what  was  worst  of  all,  was  this, — that 
tlie  litde  girl,  who  was  as  wild  and  fleet,  when  set 
at  liberty,  as  a  gazelle  of  the  mountains,  added 
not  nnseldom  to  the  necessity  of  darning,  until 
Mrs.  Margaret  bethought  herself  ^  a  homespun 
dress  in  which  Tami:^  was  pef  mitted  to  run  and 
career  during  all  hours  of  recreation  in  the  morn- 
ing, provided  she  would  sit  quietly  with  the  old 
lady  in  an  afternoon,  dressed  like  a  pretty  miss, 
in  the  venerable  silks  and  muslins  which  were 
cut  down  for  her  use  when  no  longer  capable  of 
being  worn  by  Mrs.  Margaret.  By  this  arrange- 
ment Tamar  gained  health  during  one  part  of  the 
day,  and  a  due  and  proper  behavior  at  another; 
and,  as  her  attachment  to  Mrs.  Margaret  conti- 
nued to  grow  with  her  growth,  many  and  sweet 
to  memory  in  after  life  were  the  hours  she  spent 
in  childhood,  seated  on  a  stool  at  the  lady's  feet, 
whilst  she  received  lessons  of  needlework,  and 
heard  the  many  tales  which  the  old  lady  had  to 
relate.  Mrs.  Margaret  having  led  a  life  without 
adventures,  had  made  up  their  deficiency  by 
being  a  most  graphic  recorder  of  the  histories  of 
others  ;  Scheherazade  herself  was  not  a  more 
amusing  story-teller  ;  and  if  the  Arabian  Princess 
had  recourse  to  genii,  talismans,  and  monsters, 
to  adorn  her  narratives,  neither  was  Mrs.  Dymock 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  33 

without  her  marvellous  apparatus;  for  she  had  her 
ghosts,  her  good  people,  her  dwarfs,  and  dreadful 
visions  of  second  sight,  wherewith  to  embellish 
her  histories.  There  was  a  piety  too,  a  reference 
in  all  she  said  to  the  pleasure  and  will  of  a  recon- 
ciled God,  which  added  great  charms  to  her  nar- 
ratives, and  rendered  them  peculiarly  interesting 
to  the  little  girl.  Whilst  Tamar  was  under  her 
seventh  year,  she  never  rambled  beyond  the  moat 
alone  ;  but  being  seven  years  old,  and  without 
fear,  she  extended  her  excursions,  and  not  un- 
seldom  ran  as  far  as  Shanty's  shed. 

The  old  man  had  always  taken  credit  to  him- 
self for  the  part  he  had  had  in  the  prosperity  of 
the  little  girl,  and  Mrs.  Margaret  did  not  fail  to 
tell  her  how  she  had  first  come  to  the  Tower  in 
Shanty's  arms  ;  on  these  occasions  the  child 
used  to  say, — "  then  I  must  love  him,  must  not  I, 
ma'am  ?"  And  being  told  she  must,  she  did  so, 
that  is,  she  encouraged  the  feeling  ;  and  on  a 
Sunday  when  he  was  washed  and  had  his  best 
coat  on,  she  used  to  climb  upon  his  knees,  for  she 
always  asked  leave  to  visit  him  on  that  day  if  he 
did  not  come  up  to  the  Tower,  as  he  often  did, 
to  ask  for  her,  and  being  on  his  knees  she  used 
to  repeat  to  him  what  she  had  been  learning  du- 
ring the  week. 

He   was  very  much  pleased,  when  she  first 
read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  and  then  it  was  that 


34  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

he  first  opened  out  to  her  some  of  his  ideas  on 
religion  ;  which  were  much  clearer  and  brighter 
than  either  Mrs.  Margaret's  or  her  nephew's. 
How  this  poor  and  solitary  old  man  had  obtained 
these  notions  does  not  appear  ;  he  could  not 
have  told  the  proeess  himself,  though,  as  he  af- 
terwards told  Taraar,  all  the  rest  he  knew,  had 
seemed  to  come  to  him,  through  the  clearing  and 
manifestation  of  one  passage  of  Scripture,  and 
this  passage  was  Col.  iii.  11.  "But  Christ  is  all." 
"  This  passage,"  said  the  old  man,  "  stuck  by 
Tiie  for  many  days.  I  was  made  to  turn  it  about 
and  about,  in  my  own  mind,  and  to  hammer  it 
every  way,  till  at  length,  I  was  made  to  receive 
it,  in  its  fulness.  Christ  I  became  persuaded,  is 
not  all  to  one  sort  of  men,  and  not  all  to  another 
sort,  nor  all  at  one  time  of  a  man's  life,  and  not 
all  at  another;  nor  all  in  owe  circumstance  of 
need,  and  not  all  in  another  ;  nor  all  to  the  saint, 
and  not  all  to  the  sinner  ;  nor  all  in  the  hour  of 
joy,  and  not  all  in  the  hour  of  retribution;  being 
ready  and  able  to  supply  one  want,  and  unwilling 
to  supply  another.  For,"  as  he  would  add,  "does 
man  want  righteousness  ?  there  it  is  laid  for 
him  in  Christ ;  does  he  want  merit  ?  there  is  the 
treasure  full  and  brimming  over  ;  does  he  want 
rest  and  peace  ?  they  are  also  provided  for  him  ; 
does  he  want  faith  ?  there  also  is  faith  prepared 


A  TALE   OF  OTHER  TIMES.  35 

for  him  ;  but  the  times  and  the  seasons,  these  are 
not  given  to  him  to  know;  and,  if  confusion  and 
every  evil  work  now  prevail,  Christ  being  all,  he 
will  bring  order  out  of  confusion,  when  the  ful- 
ness of  the  time  shall  come." 

"  And  so,"  continued  the  old  man,  "  when  it 
was  given  to  me  to  see  and  accept  this  one  pas- 
sage first,  in  its  completeness,  all  other  parts  of 
Scripture  seemed  to  fall  at  once  into  their  places; 
and  the  prophecies,  the  beautiful  prophecies  of 
future  peace  and  joy,  to  the  earth,  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  death  and  of  hell,  all  opened  out  to  me, 
as  being  hidden  and  shut  up  in  Christ, — forChrist 
is  all ;  and  as  I  desired  the  treasure,  so  I  was 
drawn  more  and  more  towards  Him  who  keeps 
the  treasure;  fund  all  this,"  he  would  add,  "  was 
done  for  me,  through  no  deserts  or  deservings  of 
my  own  ;  for  till  this  light  was  vouchsafed  rue, 
I  was  as  other  unregenerate  men,  living  only  to 
myself  and  for  myself;  and  more  than  this,"  he 
would  say,  "  were  it  the  Divine  will  to  withdraw 
the  light,  I  should  turn  again  to  be  dead,  and  hard 
as  iron  on  the  cold  anvil."  In  this  way.  Shanty 
often  used  to  talk  to  Mrs.  Margaret,  and  after  a 
while  to  Tamar ;  but  the  old  lady  for  many  years 
remained  incapable  of  entering  so  entirely  as  he 
could  wish,  into  his  views  of  the  sufficiency  of 
the  Redeemer.     She  could  not  give  up  entirely 


36  SlIAN  rV  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

her  notions  of  the  need  of  some  works,  not  as 
evidences  of  the  salvation  of  an  individual,  but 
asT^means  of  ensuring  that  salvation,  and  accord- 
ingly she  never  met  with  Shanty  for  many 
years,  without  hinting  at  this  discrepancy  in 
their  opinions,  which  hints  seldom  failed  of 
bringing  forward  an  argument. 

When  Tamar  was  about  nine  years  old,  Mr. 
Dymock  gave  her  a  dog.  Of  this  creature  she 
was  very  fond,  and  always  accustomed  it  to  ac- 
company her  in  her  excursions  around  the 
Tower.  There  was  on  the  moor,  not  many  hun- 
dred paces  from  the  Tower,  a  heap  of  blocks  of 
granite,  some  of  which  bore  evidence  of  having 
been  cut  with  a  chisel  ;  but  these  were  almost 
entirely  grown  over  with  saxifragee  and  other 
wild  plants. 

The  country  people  seldom  resorted  to  this 
place,  because  they  accounted  it  uncanny,  and 
Mrs.  Margaret  had  several  wild  tales  to  tell 
about  it,  which  greatly  interested  Tamar.  She 
said,  that  in  the  times  of  papal  power,  there  had 
been  a  monastery  there,  and  in  that  place  a 
covenanter  had  been  murdered  ;  hence,  it  had 
been  pulled  down  to  the  ground,  and  all  the  un- 
holy timbers  and  symbols  ot  idolatry  burnt;  "and 
still,"  she  added,  "  to  this  day,  uncanny  objects 
are  seen  in  that  place,  and  wailing  as  of  souls  in 


A  TALE  or  OTHER  TIMES.  37 

woe  have  also  been  hearvl  coming  from  thence  ; 
and  I  mjself  have  heard  them.  Nnv,  so  short  a 
time  ago  as  the  night  or  two  before  you,  Tamar, 
were  brought  a  baby  to  tliis  house,  a  light  was 
seen  there,  and  unearthly  voices  Iieard  as  coming 
from  thence." 

Of  course  after  t'ii?,  it  could  not  be  thought 
that  Tamar  should  approach  this  place  quite 
alone,  though  she  often  desired  to  do  so  ;  had  not 
Mrs.  Margaret  told  her  these  stories,  she  pioba- 
bly  might  never  have  had  this  desire,  but  there  is 
a  principle  in  human  nature,  which  hankers  after 
the  tiling  forbidden  ;  hence,  as  St.  Paul  says, 
"  By  the  law  is  the  knowledge  of  sin."  We  are 
not  defending  human  nature,  which  is  indefen- 
sible, but  merely  slating  facts.  Tamar  had  much 
desire  to  visit  this  mysterious  place ;  and  so  it 
happened  one  day,  when  she  had  her  dog  with 
her,  and  the  sun  was  shining,  and  all  about  her 
bright  and  gay,  that  she  climbed  up  the  litUe 
green  knoll,  and  pushing  her  way  through  many 
brambles,  furze  bushes,  and  dwarf  shrubs,  she 
found  herself  in  the  centre  of  llie  huge  heaps  of 
stones  and  rubbish,  of  which  she  had  hitherto 
seen  only  the  summits,  from  the  windows  of  the 
Tower. 

But  being  arrived  there,  she  came  to  a  stand, 
to  look  about  her,  when  her  dog,  to  whom  Dy- 
4 


38 


SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 


mock  had  given  the  poetical  name  of  Sappho,  be- 
gan to  prick  up  her  ears,  and  snuff  as  if  she 
scented  something  more  than  ordinary,  and  the 
next  minute,  she  dashed  forward,  made  her  way- 
through  certain  bushes,  and  disappeared.  Ta- 
mar  called  aloud  ;  a  hollow  echo  re-sounded  her 
voice,  but  no  dog  appeared  ; — again  she  called, — 
again  she  heard  the-echo,  and  again  she  was  si- 
lent; but  she  was  by  no  means  a  timid  child  ; 
she  had  been  too  much  accustomed  to  be  alone^ 
— too  much  used  to  explore  old  corners,  of  which 
there  were  multitudes  about  the  Tower,  occupied 
only  by  owls  and  bats.  She  therefore  went  for- 
ward to  the  place  where  Sappho  had  disappeared, 
and  forcing  aside  the  shrubs,  she  saw  before  her 
a  low  arched  doorway,  which,  had  she  under- 
stood architecture,  she  would  have  known,  from 
the  carvings  about  the  posts  and  lintel,  to  have 
been  Norman. 

She  was  surprised,  indeed,  but  thinking  only 
of  her'dog,  she  called  again,  and  was  perfectly 
amazed  at  the  long,  hollow,  and  deep  sound,  of 
the  reverberation.  She  stood  still  again,  holding 
the  bushes  aside,  and  was  aware  of  a  rush  of 
damp  vapor,  blowing  in  her  face. 

Sappho,  she  called  again,  and  the  next  minute 
heard  an  impatient  bark,  or  yelp,  from  the  ani- 
mal, and  another  sound,  low,  deep  and  mutter- 
ing, which  she  could  not  comprehend. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  39 

She  was  now  getting  much  alarmed  and  drop- 
ping the  boughs,  took  to  flight,  and  she  liad 
scarcely  cleared  the  rubbish,  when  Sappho  came 
scouring  after  her,  jumping  upon  her  as  if  glad 
to  see  her  again.  She  patted  her  head,  saying 
*'  My  poor  Sappho,  what  have  you  seen  in  that 
dark  place  ?  I  wish  you  had  a  tongue  to  tell 
me." 

Tamar  immediately  returned  to  the  Tower, 
and  hastened  to  tell  her  adventure  to  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet. 

*'  Oh  !"  said  the  old  lady,  "  is  it  so  !  that  re- 
minds me  of  what  I  heard  my  father  say,  many 
and  many  is  the  year  gone  by,  that  there  was 
an  old  tradition  of  a  secret  passage  underground 
from  the  Monastery  to  the  Tower;  but  he  never 
knew  where  the  passage  came  into  the  Tower. 
But  be  it  which  way  it  might,  it  must  needs 
have  passed  under  the  moat." 

**How  strange!"  said  Tamar;  «' but  when 
(hat  passage  was  made,  it  could  not  have  been 
secret;  many  people  must  have  known  it,  and  I 
wonder,  then,  how  it  could  have  been  so  entire- 
ly forgotten." 

*'  Who  shall  say  how  things  were  done  in 
those  days,"  said  Mrs.  Margaret;  "those  times 
long  past,  when  things  uncanny  had  more  power 
than   they  have  now  ?   But  it  is  not  good  to  talk 


40  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

of  such  ihings,"  a:IJed  the  laJy  ;  "  and  now,  Ta- 
mar,  let  that  which  you  have  seen  to-daj  never 
again  be  mentioned  by  you  ;  for,  as  sure  as  the 
master  shoiihi  hearofir,  he  would  be  for  looking 
into  the  cavern,  and,  Heaven  linows  what  he  might 
stir  up,  if  he  were  to  disturb  such  things  as  might 
be  found  there.  I  only  wish  that  the  mischief 
may  not  be  already  done  !" 

But  no  mischief  did  occur,  at  least  for  a  long 
time,  from  this  mysterious  quarter.  Tauiar  did 
not  again  visit  the  place  ;  and  in  a  sliort  lime 
thought  no  more  of  the  mat  e;. 

The  happy  days  of  childhood  were  passing 
away  with  Tamar,  and  sorrow  was  coming  on 
her  patrons,  from  a  quarter  which  poor  Mrs. 
Margaret  had  long  darkly  anticipated  ;  but  whilst 
these  heavy  clouds  were  hanging  over  the  house 
of  Dymock,  a  few,  though  not  very  important 
events  intervened. 

Mr.  Dymock,  by  fits  and  snatch.es,  had  given 
such  lessons  to  Tamar  as  h.id  enabled  her  to  pro- 
ceed by  her  own  exertions,  in  several  branches 
of  kno  vledge  quite  out  of  the  sphere  of  JMrs. 
Margaret. 

Amongst  these  was  the  history  of  the  Jews, 
carried  on  in  connexion  between  the  New  and 
Old  Testament,  and  afterwards  in  Christian 
times,  and  to  these  he  added  certain  crude  views 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  41 

of  prophecy;  for  he  was  resolved  tliat  Tamar 
was  a  Jewess,  and  he  had  talked  himself  into 
the  belief,  that  she  was  of  some  distinguished 
family. 

It  is  no  diffoult  matter  to  impress  young  per- 
sons wiih  ideas  of  their  own  importance  ;  and 
none  are  more  liable  to  receive  such  impressions 
than  those  who,  like  Tamar,  are  in  the  dark  re- 
specting their  origin. 

The  point  on  whicli  Mr.  Dymock  failed  in  his 
interpretations  of  piophecy,  is  not  unfrequently 
mistaken,  even  in  this  more  enlightened  age.  He 
never  considered  or  understood,  tliat  all  prophecy 
is  delivered  in  figurative  language;  every  prophecy 
in  the  Old  Testament  having  first  a  literal  and  in- 
complete fulfilment,  the  complete  and  si)iritual 
fulfilment  being  future.  He  did  not  see  that 
the  Jews,  according  to  the  flesh,  were  types  of 
the  Spiritual  Israel  ;  that  David  was  the  emblem 
of  the  Savior  ;  and  that  the  universal  kingdom 
promised  to  the  seed  of  David,  was  no  other  than 
the  kingdom  of  Christ,  in  which  all  the  children 
of  God  will  be  gathered  together  as  into  one  fold 
under  one  Shepherd.  Not  seeing  this,  he  anti- 
cipated a  period  of  earthly  triumph  for  the  Jews, 
such  as  an  ambitious,  worldly  man  might  anti- 
cipate with  delight ;  and  he  so  filled  the  mind  of 
his  young  pupil  with  these  notions  of  the  supe- 
4^ 


42  SHAXTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

riority  of  her  race,  that  it  is  a  miracle  tliat  he 
did^nol  utterly  ruin  I  er.  As  it  was,  slie  counted 
herself  greatly  supGrior  to  all  about  her,  and 
was  much  hurt  and  offended  when  old  Shanty 
represented  the  simple  truth  to  her,  telling  her, 
that  even  were  she  the  lineal  descendant  of  Solo- 
mon himself,  she  could  have  no  other  privilege 
than  that  of  the  lowest  Gentile  who  has  obtained 
a  new  blrth-ri^ht  in  the  Savior  of  mankind; 
*' for,"  said  he,  "  under  lbs  Gospel  dispensation 
there  is  no  difierence  between  tlia  Jew  and  the 
Greek, — the  same  Lord  over  all,  is  rich  unto  all 
that  call  upon  Jiim.''  Rom.  x.  12. 

It  did  not,  however  suit  Tamar  to  adopt  tiiese 
truths  at  ihe  pre^jcnt  time  ,  and  as  Shanty  could 
not  succeed  widi  her,  he  took  the  liberty  of 
.^peaking  to  Mr.  Dymotk  on  the  subject. 

"  Why  do  you  fill  the  youn;^  girl's  mind,  Dy- 
mock,"  said  he,  "  with  such  fancies  as  you  do  ? 
But,  leaving  her  alone,  let  us  speak  of  the  Jews 
in  general.  They  that  wish  them  well  should  not 
fill  them  up  with  notions  of  a  birih-right  which 
ihey  have  forfeited,  and  thus  conlirin  ihem  in  the 
very  same  pride  which  led  them  to  crucify  the 
Lord  of  Glory.  Wliat  is  a  Jew  more  ihan  ano- 
ther man  ?  for  he  is  not  a  Jew  which  is  one  out- 
wardly j  neither  is  that  circumcision  which  is 
outward  in  the  flesh  ;  but  he  i^  a  Jew  which  is 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  43 

one  inwardly,  and  circumcision  is  that  of  the 
heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter,  whose 
praise  is  not  of  men  but  of  God."  Rom.  ii.  2S, 
29. 

Mr.  Dymock  would  not  listen  to  honest  Shnnty 
on  this  subject,  much  as  he  respected  him  ;  and, 
indeed,  tlie  poor  Laird  was  at  this  time  deeply 
oppressed  wiih  other  matters. 

He  had,  in  his  various  speculations,  so  entirely 
neglected  his  own  affiirs  for  some  years  past, 
that  poverty,  nay  actual  penury,  was  staling  him 
in  his  face.  He  had  formerly  mortgaged,  by  little 
and  little,  most  of  his  lands,  and  nothing  now  re- 
mained to  make  money  of,  but  the  Caslle  itself 
and  a  iew  acres  around  it^  with  die  exception  only 
of  a  cottage  and  a  small  field,  hitherto  occupied 
by  a  laborer,  which  lay  in  a  kind  of  hollow  on 
the  side  of  the  knoll,  wiiere  ti  e  entrance  of  the 
secret  cavern  w:is.  This  coltrge  was  as  remote 
from  Dymock's  Tower  in  one  way,  as  shanty's 
shed  was  in  another  ;  aIthoLi?;^h  the  three  dwell- 
ings form.ed  together  a  sort  of  equilateral  triangle. 
Mr.  Dymock  long  suspected  t,.at  this  labourer 
had  done  his  share  to  waste  Iiis  substance.;  and 
once  or  twice  it  had  occurred  to  him,  that  if  he 
left  the  Castle  he  might  retire  to  the  cottage. 
Cut  yet,  to  part  with  the  Castle,  could  he  find  a 
purchaser,   would,   he   feared,   be  death  to  Mrs, 


44  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

Margaret,  and  how  would  Tamar  bear  it? — this 
glorious  Maid  of  Judah,  as  he  was  wont  to  call 
her, — this  palm  tree  of  Zion,  this  daughter  of  Da- 
vid,— the  very  fine  person,  and  very  superior  air 
of  Tamar  having  confirmed  him  in  the  impression 
of  her  noble  birth.  It  was  whilst  these  heavy 
thoughts  respecting  what  must  be  done  in  the 
management  of  his  affairs  dwelt  on  his  mind, 
that  the  same  man  who  had  finished  the  un- 
fortunate plough  appeared  again  in  Shanty's 
shed. 

The  old  man  recognized  him  immediately,  al- 
though fourteen  years  had  much  changed  his  ap- 
pearance, and  he  at  once  charged  him  with 
having  had  some  concern  with  the  woman  who 
left  the  child. 

The  well-acted  astonishment  of  the  vagrant, 
for  such  he  was,  silenced  Shanty,  though  it  did 
not  convince  him  that  he  was  mistaken  in  his 
conjecture.  However,  the  old  man,  changing 
his  mode  of  attack,  and  regretting  that  he 
had  put  the  stranger  on  his  guard  by  giving 
him  so  home  a  thrust,  pretended  to  be  con- 
vinced, and  entered  into  easy  conversation  with 
him ;  amongst  other  things  asking  him  if  per- 
chance he  knew  of  any  one  who  wanted  to  pur- 
chase an  estate. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  45 

**  Aye  !"  said  the  vagrant,  to  whom  as  we 
shall  have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  him 
again,  we  think  it  may  be  well  to  give  the 
name  of  Harefoot, — "Aye  !  old  gentlman,  and 
might  one  ask  where  this  estate  of  yours  may 
ie?" 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence,"  replied  Shanty, 
*'  I  answer  no  questions,  as  not  being  empowered 
so  to  do.  At  all  events,  however,  the  estate  is  not 
far  from  hence,  and  it  is  a  magnificent  place,  I 
promise  you.  More's  the  pity,  that  those  who 
have  owned  it  for  some  hundreds  of  years,  should 
be  compelled  to  part  with  it."' 

Other  matters  were  then  introduced,  and  Shan- 
ty endeavored  to  wind  about  Harefoot,  but  with 
little  success  ;  for  deep  as  he  thought  himself,  he 
hid  one  deeper  to  deal  with.  In  truth,  poor 
Shanly  was  but  a  babe  in  cunning,  and  the  va- 
grant departed,  wiihout  having  dropped  a  single 
hint  whioh  could  be  taken  hoM  of  respecting 
Tamar.  In  the  meantime  troubles  were  pressing 
upon  poor  Dymock,  the  interest  of  moneys  lent 
on  the  mortgage  was  not  forthcoming,  and  the 
Laird  having  no  belter  friend  (and  as  to  a  sin- 
cerer  he  needed  none,)  than  poor  Shanty,  used 
from  day  to  day  to  go  down  to  the  shed,  to  open 
his  heart  to  the  old  man. 


46  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

Shanty  had  long  advised  his  patron  to  tell  his 
situation  to  Mrs.  Margaret,  and  to  advertise  the 
sale  of  the  castle,  but  Dy  mock's  pride  had  not  yet 
so  far  submitted  itself,  as  to  enable  him  to  make 
so  public  a  confession  of  the  downfall  of  the  fa- 
mily, as  an  advertisement  would  do. 

**  I  cannot  open  my  heart  to  my  aunt.  Shan- 
ty," he  said,  "she,  poor  creature  has  devoted  her 
whole  life  to  keeping  up  the  dignity  of  the  house; 
how,  then,  will  she  bear  to  see  the  whole  labor 
of  her  life  annihilated  ?" 

*'The  sooner  she  knows  of  what  is  coming  the 
better,"  returned  Shanty,  "if  she  is  not  prepared, 
the  blow  when  it  comes,  will  go  nigh  utterly  to 
overpower  her,"  and  the  old  man  proposed  to  go 
himself  to  open  the  matter  to  her. 

"  You  shall,  Shanty,  you  shall,"  said  the 
Laird,  "but  wait  a  little,  wait  a  little,  we  may. 
hear  of  a  purchaser  for  the  casde,  and  when  such 
a  one  is  found,  then  you  shall  speak  to  my 
aunt." 

"  But  first,"  said  Shanty,  "  let  me  prepare 
your  adopted  one,  let  me  open  the  matter  to  her; 
she  is  of  an  age,  in  which  she  ought  to  think  and 
act  no  longer  as  a  child;  it  is  now  fourteen  years 
since  I  carried  her  up  in  my  arms  to  Dymock's 
Tower,  and  though  the  young  girl  is  too  much 
filled  up  with  pride,  j^et  I  fear  not  but  that  she  is 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  47 

a  jewel,  which  will  shine  brighter,  when  rubbed 
under  the  wheel  of  adversity  ;  allowing  what  I 
hope,  that  tliere  is  a  jewel  under  that  crust  of 
pride." 

*' Pride  !"  repeated  Dymock,  flying  off*  into 
the  region  of  romance,  "  and  if  a  daughter  of 
Zion,  a  shoot  from  the  Cedar  of  Lebanon,  is  not 
to  carry  her  head  high,  who  is  to  do  so  ?  the 
fate  of  her  race  may  indeed  follow  her,  and  she 
may  be  brought  down,  to  sit  in  the  dust,  but  still 
even  in  the  dust,  she  may  yet  boast  her  glorious 
origin." 

Shanty  raised  his  hands  and  eyes,  "Lord  help 
you  !  Dymock,"  he  said,  "  but  you  are  clean  de- 
mented. I  verily  believe,  that  the  child  is  nothing 
more  than  the  offspring  of  a  begging  gipsy,  and 
that  if  her  mother  had  been  hanged,  she  would 
only  have  met  with  her  deserts." 

Discussions  of  this  kind  were  constantly  tak- 
ing place  between  Shanty  and  Dymock,  and  it 
was  in  the  very  midst  of  one  of  these  arguments, 
that  the  rare  appearance  of  a  hired  chaise, — a 
job  and  pair,  as  Shanty  called  it,  appeared  com- 
ing over  the  moor,  direcUy  to  the  shed,  and  so 
quick  was  the  approach,  that  the  Laird  and  the 
blacksmith  had  by  no  means  finished  their  con- 
jectures respecting  this  phenomenon,  before  the 
equipage  came  to  a  stand,  in  the  front  of 
the  hut. 


48  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

As  the  carriage  stopped,  a  spare,  sallow,  severe 
looking  old  gentleman,  put  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  and  calling  to  the  post  boy,  in  a  sliarp, 
querulous  tone,  asked  if  he  were  quite  sure  that 
he  was  ri<i,ht  ? 

•'  Not  sure  that  this  is  old  Shanty's  hut ;  Shan- 
ty of  Dymock's  Moor,"  replied  the  post-boy,  in 
a  broad  Northern  accent;  "ask  me  if  1  don't 
know  my  own  mother's  son,  though  she  never 
had  but  one  bairn." 

Dymock  and  Shanty  no  sooner  heard  the  voice 
of  the  boy  than  they  both  recognized  him,  and 
stepping  forward,  they  went  up  to  the  carriage 
and  offered  to  assist  the  old  genileman  to  alight; 
he  received  their  civilities  with  very  little  cour- 
tesy. However,  he  got  out  of  the  carriage,  and 
giving  himself  a  shake,  and  a  sort  of  twist,  which 
caused  the  lappets  of  his  coat  to  expand,  like  the 
fan-tail  of  a  pii^eon,  he  asked,  if  the  place  v/as 
Dymock's  Moor,  and  if  the  old  man  he  saw  before 
him,  was  one  called  Shanty  of  the  Moor?  The 
blacksmith  declared  himself  to  be  that  same  per- 
son, **and  (liis  gentleman,  he  added,  pointing  to 
Dymock,  whose  every  day  dress,  by  the  bye,  did 
not  savor  much  of  the  Laird,  •*  This  gentleman 
is  Dymock  himself." 

"Ah,  is  it  so,"  said  the  stranger,  "  my  busi- 
ness then  is  with  him,  show  me  where  I  can 
converse  with  him." 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  49 

"I  have  no  parlor  to  offer  you,"  said  Shanty; 
*'  to  my  shed,  liowever,  such  as  it  is,  I  make 
you  v\elc.ome." 

No  gracious  notice  was  taken  by  the  stranger 
of  the  offer,  but  without  preamble  or  ceremony, 
he  told  his  errand  to  Mr.  Dymock.  *''  I  hear," 
he  said,  "  that  you  wish  to  sell  your  Tower,  and 
the  lands  wliich  surround  it ;  if  after  looking  at 
it,  and  finding  that  it  suits  me,  you  will  agree  to 
let  me  have  it,  I  will  pay  you  down  in  moneys, 
to  the  just  and  due  amount  of  the  value  thereof, 
but  first  I  must  see  it." 

**  It  stands  tliere,  Sir,"  said  Shanty,  seeing 
that  Mr.  Dymock's  heart  was  too  full  to  permit 
him  to  speak  ;  "  it  stands  there.  Sir,  and  is  as 
noble  an  object  as  my  eye  ever  fell  upon.  The 
Tower,"  continued  the  old  man,  "at  this  mi- 
nute, lies  directly  under  the  only  dark  cloud  now 
in  the  heavens  ;  nevertheless,  a  slanting  ray  from 
the  westering  sun  now  falls  on  its  highest  turret; 
look  on,  K^ir,  and  say  wherever  have  you  seen  a 
grander  object  ?" 

The  old  gentleman  uttered  an  impatient  pish, 
and  said,  "  Uld  man,  your  travels  must  needs 
have  lain  in  a  small  compass,  if  you  think  much 
of  yon  heap  of  stones  and  rubbish."  The  Laird's 
cholar  was  rising,  and  he  would  infallibly  have 
told  the  stranger  to  have  walked  himself  off,  if 
6 


50  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

Shanty  had  not  pulled  him  by  the  sleeve,  and, 
stepping  before  the  stranger,  said  something  in  a 
soothing  way,  which  should  enhance  the  dignity 
of  the  Tower  and  encourage  the  pretended  pur- 
chaser. 

"  I  must  see  it,  I  must  see  it,"  returned  the  old 
gentleman,  "  not  as  now  mixed  up  with  the 
clouds,  but  I  must  examine  it,  see  its  capabili- 
ties, and  know  precisely  what  it  is  worth,  and 
how  it  can  be  secured  to  me  and  my  heirs  for 
ever." 

It  was  warm  work  which  poor  Shanty  now 
had  to  do  ;  between  the  irritated  seller  and  the 
testy  buyer,  he  had  never  been  in  a  hotter 
place  before  his  own  forge,  and  there  was  wind 
enough  stirring  in  all  reason,  without  help  of  bel- 
lows, for  the  Laird  puffed  and  groaned  and  ut- 
tered half  sentences,  and  wished  himself  dead,  on 
one  side  of  the  old  blacksmiih,  whilst  the  stranger 
went  on  as  calmly,  cooly,  and  deliberately,  with 
his  bargain,  on  the  other  side,  as  if  he  were  deal- 
ing with  creatures  utterly  without  feeling.  Shan- 
ty turned  first  to  one,  and  then  to  another  ;  nod- 
ding and  winking  to  Dymock  to  keep  quiet  on 
one  side,  whilst  he  continued  to  vaunt  the  merits 
of  the  purchase  on  the  other. 

At  length,  on  a  somewhat  more  than  usually 
testy  remark  of  the  stranger  reaching  the  ears  of 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  51 

the  Laird,  he  burst  by  Shanty  and  had  ah-eady 
uttered  these  words,  "  Let  me  hear  no  nnore  of 
this,  I  am  a  gentleman,  and  abominate  the  paltry 
consideration  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  ;'' 
when  Shanty  forcibly  seizing  his  arm,  turned  him 
fairly  round,  whispering,  "  Go,  and  for  the  sake 
of  common  sense,  hold  your  tongue,  leave  the 
matter  to  me,  let  me  bargain  for  you;  go  and  tell 
Mrs.  Margaret  that  we  are  coming,  and  make 
what  tale  you  will  to  her,  to  explain  our  uncere- 
monious visit;  you  had  better  have  told  her  all 
before." 

The  Laird  informed  Shanty  that  there  was  no 
need  of  going  up  to  the  Tower  to  inform  his  ai;nt, 
as  she  and  Tamar  were  gone  that  day  over  the 
border  to  visit  a  friend  ;  but  added  he,  "  I  take 
your  offer,  Shanty,  make  the  bargain  for  me  if 
you  can,  and  I  shall  not  appear  till  I  am  wanted 
to  sign  and  seal,"  and  away  marched  tho  Laird, 
nor  was  he  forthcoming  again  for  some  hours. 

After  he  was  gone.  Shanty  beggod  leave  to 
have  a  few  minutes  given  him  for  washing  his 
hands  and  face  and  making  himself  decent,  and 
then  walked  up  with  the  testy  old  gentleman  to 
the  castle.  Little  as  Shanty  knew  of  the  great 
and  grand  world,  yet  his  heart  misgave  him,  lest 
the  ruinous  state  of  the  castle,  (although  the 
Tower  itself  stood  in  its  ancient  and  undilapida- 


52  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

ted  strength,)  should  so  entirely  disgust  the  stran- 
ger llial  he  should  at  once  renounce  all  ideas  of 
the  purchase;  he  was  therefore  much  pleased 
when  the  old  gentleman,  having  gone  grumbling 
and  muttering  into  every  room  and  every  out- 
house, crying,  it  is  naught!  it  is  naught!  as  buy- 
ers generally  do,  bade  Shanty  tell  the  Laird  that 
he  was  going  to  the  nearest  town,  that  he  should 
be  there  till  the  business  was  settled,  that  he 
would  give  the  fair  valuation  for  the  estate,  and 
that  the  payment  should  be  prompt. 

Shanty  was,  indeed  astonished ;  he  was  all 
amazement,  nor  did  he  recover  hinjself,  till  he 
saw  the  old  genUeman  walk  away,  and  g'^t  into 
his  carriage  which  was  waiting  on  the  other  side 
of  the  moat,  it  not  being  particularly  convenient, 
on  account  of  the  total  deficiency  of  anything 
like  a  bridge  or  passable  road,  to  bringa  cariiage 
larger  than  a  wheel-barrow  up  to  the  casUe. 

Dymock  returned  to  the  shed,  when  he,  from 
some  place  of  observation  on  the  moor,  saw  that 
the  carriage  had  reached  the  high  road,  and 
there,  having  been  told  all  ihat  had  passed,  the 
poor  gendenian  (^who,  by  the  bye,  was  not  half 
pleased  with  the  idea  of  the  honors  of  Dvmock 
falling  into  the  hands  of  sucli  a  purchaser,)  in- 
formed Shanty  thi^t  he  must  prepare  to  go  with 
him  the  next  day  to  Hexham,  where  the  stranger 
had  appointed  to  meet  him. 


A  TALE   OF   OTHER  TIMES.  53 

"I  go  with  you  !"  exclaimed  Shanty,  "  was 
ever  so  strange  a. conceit." 

"I.  sliall  be  fleeced,  shorn,  ruined,"  replied 
Mr.  Dymock,  ''  If  I  go  to  make  a  bargain  wiih- 
out  a  grain  of  common  sense  in  my  company." 

"  True,"  returned  Shanty,  "  your  worsliip  is 
right;  but  how  are  we  to  go?  I  have  plenty  of 
horse-shoes  by  me,  but  neither  you,  nor  I,  Laird, 
I  fear,  could  find  any  four  legs  to  wear  them." 

"  We  must  e'en  walk  then,"  said  Dymock, 
*'nay  I  would  gladly  carry  you  on  my  back,  ra- 
ther than  descend  to  the  meanness  of  driving  a 
bargain  with  a  testy  old  fellow  like  that;  by  the 
bye.  Shanty,  what  does  he  call  liimself  ?" 

"Salmon,"  replied  Shanty,  "and  I  mistake  if 
he  has  not  a  touch  of  the  foreigner  on  his  tongue." 

*'You  will  accompany  me,  then,  Shanty,"  said 
the  Laird. 

"  I  will,"  he  replied,  ''  if  this  evening  you 
will  open  the  business  out  to  Mrs.  Margaret." 

"  It  cannot  be,  Shanty,"  replied  D3^mock 
chuckling,  "  for  she  does  not  expect  to  be  back 
over  the  border  till  to-morrow,  and  when  to-mor- 
row is  over  and  we  know  what  we  are  about, 
then  you  shall  tell  her  all." 

"  Dymock,"  said  Shanty,  "  you  are  hard  up- 
on me;  when  you  have  a  morsel  to  swallow  that 
is  too  tough  for  you,  you  put  it  into  my  mouth  ; 
5* 


51  STIANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

but,"  adtled  the  okl'mrji  kindly,  "there  is  not 
much  that  I  vvouKl  refuse  tu  do  for  your  father's 
son." 

The  sun  had  not  yet  risen  over  the  mnor, 
wlien  Dymock  and  Shanty,  both  arrayed  in  their 
best,  set  off  for  Hexham,  where  they  found  the 
crabbed  old  gentleman,  still  in  the  humor  of 
making  the  purchase,  though  he  abused  the  place 
in  1  siiguage  at  once  rude  and  petulent ;  his  offer, 
however,  was,  as  Shanty  com])elled  Dymock  to 
see,  a  very  fur  one,  though  the  more  sensible  and 
wary  blacksmith  could  not  persuade  his  friend  to 
be^vare  of  trusting  anything  to  the  honor  of  Mr. 
Salmon. 

Dymock's  estate  had  been  deeply  raorlgiged, 
the  sale  was  made  subject  to  the  mortgages,  and 
the  purchaser  was  bound  to  pay  the  mortgagee 
the  inortgage  moneys,  after  which  there  was  a 
small  surplus  coming  to  poor  Dymock.  This  small 
surplus  was,  however,  paid  down  on  the  signing 
of  the  papers;  stil!,  however,  there  was  an  addi- 
tional payment  to  take  j  lace  soon  after  posses- 
sion. 

This  payment  was,  it  was  supposed,  to  be  for 
fixtures  and  other  article?,  which  were  to  be  left 
on  the  premises,  and  it  was  not  to  be  asked  till 
Mr.  Salmon  had  been  a  resident  a  (ew  weeks. 
The  amount  was  between  five  and  six  hundred 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  55 

pounds,  and  was  in  fart  all  tkat  Dymock  would 
have  to  depend  upon  besides  his  cottage,  his  field, 
a  right  of  shooting  on  the  moor,  and  fishing  in  a 
lake  which  belonged  to  the  estate,  and  about 
twenty  pounds  a  year  which  appertained  to  Mrs. 
Margaret,  from  wh'ch  it  was  supposed  she  had 
made  some  savings. 

Shanty  had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  Laird  to 
listen  to  the  dictates  of  prudence,  and  to  act  with 
sufficient  caution,  till  it  came  to  what  he  called 
the  dirty  part  of  tlie  work,  to  wit,  the  valuation 
of  small  articles,  and  then  was  the  blood  of  t!.e 
Dymoclis  all  up  ;  nor  would  he  hear  of  requiring 
£  bond  for  the  payment  of  this  last  sum,  such  a 
document,  in  fact,  as  should  bind  the  purchaser 
down  to  payment  without  dispute.  He  content- 
ed himself  only  with  such  a  note  from  the  old 
man  as  eught,  he  asserted,  to  be  quite  sufficient, 
and  it  was  utterly  useless  for  Shanty  to  expostu- 
late. Tiie  Laird  had  got  on  his  h'hjd\  horse  and 
was  prancing  and  capering  beyond  all  the  control 
of  his  honest  friend,  whilst  Mr.  Salmon,  no 
doubt,  laughed  in  his  sleeve,  and  oidy  lamented 
that  he  had  not  known  Dymock  better  from  the 
first,  for  in  that  case  he  would  have  used  his 
cunning  to  have  obtained  a  better  bargain  of  the 
castle  and  lands.  It  was  not  one  or  wo  visits  to 
Hexham    which  completed  these  arrangements  ; 


56  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

however  Mr.  Djmock,  after  the  first  visit,  no 
longer  refused  to  permit  Shanty  to  open  out  every 
thing  to  his  aunt,  and  to  prepare  her  to  descend 
into  a  cottage,  on  an  income  of  forty  or  fifty 
pounds  a  year. 

Mrs.  Margaret  bore  the  information  better  than 
Shanty  had  expected  ;  she  had  long  anticipated 
some  such  blow,  and  her  piety  enabled  her  to  bear 
it  with  cheerfulness.  "I  now,"  she  said,  *'know 
llie  worst,  and  I  see  not  wlierefore,  thouorh  I  am 
a  Dymock,  I  should  not  be  happy  in  a  cottage;  I 
am  only  sorry  for  Tamar  ;  poor  Tamar  !  what 
will  become  of  her  ?" 

"  Oh  mollier!  dear  mother!"  said  Tamar  weep- 
ing, "why  are  you  sorry  for  me,  cannot  I  go  with 
you?  surely  you  would  not  part  from  me  ;"  and 
she  fell  weeping  on  Mrs.  Margaret's  bosom. 

"  Never  before!  oh,  never  before,"  cried  Mrs. 
Margaret,  "  did  J  feel  my  poverty  as  1  do  now." 

"Mother  dear!  oh  mother  dear!  had  I  thou- 
sands of  pounds,  I  would  devote  them  all  to  you, 
and  to  my  dear  protector." 

"  God  helping  you,  or  God  working  in  you 
Tamar,"  said  Shanty,  rubbing  his  rough  hand 
across  his  eyes,  "  but  never  boast  of  what  yoa 
will  do,  dear  child  ;  boasting  does  not  suit  the 
condition  of  humanity." 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  57 

"Oh  !  that  I  could  now  find  my  father,"  she 
replied,  "  and  if  I  could  find  him  a  rich  man, 
what  a  comfort  it  would  be  ;  what  would  I  give 
now,"  she  added,  "  to  find  a  rich  father !" 

Mrs.  Margaret  kissed  her  child,  and  wept  widi 
her,  calling  her  a  dear,  affectionate,  grateful  crea- 
ture ;  but  Shanty  made  no  remark  respecting 
Tamar's  gratitude  ;  he  had  it  in  his  mind  to  speak 
to  her  when  alone,  and  he  very  soon  found  the 
opportunity  he  wished. 

It  was  on  the  next  Sunday  that  he  met  Taraar 
walking  on  the  moor,  and  it  was  then  that  he 
thus  addressed  her,  "  I  was  sorry  damsel,"  he 
said,  "to  hear  you  speak  as  you  did  to  Mrs. 
Margaret  the  other  day,  making  a  profession  of 
what  you  would  do  for  her  if  you  were  rich,  and 
yet  never  offering  her  that  which  you  have  to 
give  her." 

"  What  have  I  to  give  her?"  asked  Tamar. 

*'  Much,"  replied  the  old  man;  "  much,  very 
much.  You  have  strength,  and  activity,  and 
affection  to  give  her.  With  forty  pounds  a-year, 
a  house,  and  a  little  field,  which  is  all  your 
adopted  parents  will  have,  can  they,  think  you, 
keep  a  servant  ?  Will  not  the  very  closest  cire 
be  necessary,  and  should  not  one  who  is  young, 
and  faithful,  and  attached,  rejoice  to  serve  her  be- 
nefactors  at  such    times    as   this,  and  to  render 


58  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

their  fall  as  easy  as  possible  ;  and  where,  I  ask 
you,  Tamar,  should  they  find  such  service  as 
you  can  render  iheni  ?" 

They  were  walking  side  by  side,  the  old  man 
and  the  beautiful  girl,  among  the  heather  of  the 
moor  ;  and  he  was  looking  up  kindly  and  ani- 
matedly to  her, — for  he  was  a  remarkably  short, 
thick-set  man, — but  she  was  looking  down  on  the 
ground,  whilst  a  bitter  struggle  was  passing  in 
her  mind.  She  had  been  filled  up  by  her  guar- 
dian with  wild  fancies  of  her  own  greatness, 
which  was  hereafter  to  be  made  manifest;  and  it 
would  have  been  too  strong  for  unaided  nature, 
to  bring  herself  to  submit  to  such  drudgeries  as 
duty  seemed  now  to  require  of  her  ;  her  bright- 
brown  cheek  was  flushed  with  the  inward  contest, 
and  her  bosom  seemed  to  be  almost  swelled  to 
suffocation.  But  the  assistance  required  was  not 
withheld  in  the  hour  of  need,  and  Shanty  was 
soon  made  aware  of  the  change  of  feelings  which 
was  suddenly  imparted  to  the  orphan  by  the 
change  of  the  expression  of  her  countenance  ;  the 
tears  had  already  filled  her  eyes,  when  she  turned 
to  her  old  friend,  and  thanked  him  for  his  reproof, 
expressing  her  conviction, that  his  advice  was  that 
of  a  true  Christian,  and  begging  him  always  to 
tell  her,  in  like  manner,  when  he  saw  that  she 
was  going  wrong.      A  more  general  discussion 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  59 

on  the  subject  of  true  religion  then  followed,  and 
Shanty  assured  Tamar,  that  all  high  notions  of 
self,  whether  of  birth,  talents,  or  riches,  were  un- 
pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  utterly  incon- 
sistent with  that  view  of  salvation  by  Christ, 
which  is  independent  of  all  human  merit.  Such 
was  the  nature  of  the  lessons  given  by  the  old 
man  to  Tamar.  His  language  was,  however, 
broad,  and  full  of  north-country  phrases,  so 
much  so,  as  to  have  rendered  them  inexplicable 
to  one  who  had  not  been  accustomed  to  the  Bor- 
der dialect.  From  that  day,  however,  through 
the  divine  mercy,  the  heart  of  Tamar  was  given 
to  the  duties  which  she  saw  before  her,  and  all 
her  activity  was  presently  put  into  requisition  ; 
for  Mr.  Salmon  had  given  notice,  that  he  should 
ta!:e  possession  of  Dymock's  Tower  as  soon  as 
it  could  be  got  ready  for  him,  and  he  also  sent 
persons  to  make  the  preparations  which  he  re- 
quired. These  preparations  were  of  a  most  sin- 
gular nature ;  his  object  appeared  neither  to  be 
the  beautifying  of  the  old  place,  or  even  the  ren- 
dering it  more  comfortable,  for  he  neither  sent 
new  furniture,  nor  ordered  the  restoration  of  any 
of  tlje  dilapidated  chambers  or  courts.  But  he  or- 
dered the  moat  to  be  repaired,  so  that  it  could  be 
filled  and  kept  full,  and  he  directed  that  a  light 
drawbridge  should  also  be  erected.  The  walls  of 


60  SII.VNTY  TlIS  BLACKSMITH  ; 

^tbe  inner  courts  were  also  to  be  put  to  rights,  and 
new  gales  added.  There  was  a  great  laugh  in 
the  country  respecting  this  unknown  humorist: 
and  some  said  he  was  preparing  for  a  siege,  and 
others  going  to  set  up  for  a  modern  Rob  Roy, 
and  Caslle-Djniock  was  to  be  his  head  quar. 
ters. 

The  greater  part  of  the  furniture,  and  all  the 
fixtures,  were  to  be  paid  for  by  the  money  for 
which  the  Laird  had  Mr.  Salmon's  memorandum; 
and  they  who  knew  their  condition,  said  tnat  the 
things  had  been  brought  to  a  good  market,  as  lit- 
tle of  the  furniture  would  have  been  worth  the 
carriage  across  the  mour.  Nothing  at  present, 
therefore,  remained  for  il)e  aunt  and  the  nephew 
to  do,  but  to  remove  to  the  cottage  as  soon  as  it 
should  be  ready  to  receive  them. 

This  humble  habitation  was  situated  in  a  small 
nook  or  vale  of  the  moor  called  Heaiherdale.  A 
little  fresli-water  spring  ran  through  it,  coming 
in  at  the  higher  end  of  t!ie  valley,  and  going  out 
through  a  natural  cleft  in  a  block  of  granite  at  the 
other  end.  There  were  many  tall  trees  scattered 
on  the  banks  within  the  dell  ;  and  the  place  was 
so  sheltered,  that  many  a  plant  would  flouj-isJi  in 
the  garden  on  the  south  side  of  the  house,  which 
coald  hardly  be  kept  alive  in  any  other  situation 
in  the  country. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  61 

The  cottage  was  an  old,  black,  timbered  and 
thatched  edifice,  and  had  four  rooms  of  consider- 
able dirnei  sions,  two  above  and  two  below,  with 
a  porch  in  the  front,  overgrown  with  briony  and 
another  hardy  creeper.  As  soon  as  this  tenement 
was  vacated,  and  the  Laird's  intention  of  inha- 
biting it  known,  the  ancient  tenants  of  the  family 
all  manifested  their  affection  by  using  their  se- 
veral crafts  in  repairing  the  cottage,  and  setting 
the  house  to  rights, — one  mended  the  thatch, 
another  repaired  the  wood-work,  a  third  white- 
washed the  walls,  another  mended  the  paling, 
and  old  Shanty  did  any  little  job  in  his  way 
which  might  be  required. 

The  labors  of  love  never  hang  long  on  hand, 
and  though  the  old  tenant  had  gone  out  only  at 
Lady-day,  the  hawthorn  had  scarcely  blossomed 
when  the  affectionate  people  announced  the  work 
complete. 

Poor  Dymock  had  become  very  restless  when 
he  saw  the  changes  which  were  going  on  at  the 
Tower ;  but  when  there  was  no  longer  an  excuse 
to  be  found  for  delaying  the  removal,  he  gave 
way  altogether,  or  rather,  we  should  say,  made  a 
cut  and  run,  and  went  off  to  botanize  the  lakes 
in  Westmoreland,  with  a  knapsack  on  his  back, 
and  a  guinea  in  his  pocket. 
6 


62  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

Before  he  went,  however,  he  had  opened  his 
heart  to  his  daughter  Tamar,  saying,  "  I  now 
take  leave,  dear  child,  of  the  life  of  a  gentleman; 
henceforward  I  must  content  myself  with  the 
corner  of  a  kitchen  in^le  ;  and  this,  truly,  is  a 
berth,"  he  added,  "^  too  good  for  a  cumberer  of 
the  ground,  such  as  I  am."  He  said  this  as  he 
passed  through  the  gate  of  the  court,  giving  his 
adopted  one  time  only  to  snatch  his  hand  and 
kiss  it,  and  he  was  gone  beyond  her  hearing 
before  she  could  relieve  her  heart  with  a  burst 
of  tears.  After  a  while,  however,  she  dried 
them  up,  and  began  to  busy  her  mind  in  think- 
ing what  she  coukl  do  to  render  the  cottage  com- 
fortable for  her  beloved  guardian  ;  and  having 
at  length  formed  her  plan,  she  ran  to  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet, and  asked  her  permission  to  take  the  ar- 
rangement of  their  new  house. 

"Let  me,"  said  she,  "see  all  the  things  put  in 
their  places  ;  you  and  I,  dear  aunt  Margaret, 
will  have  to  ourselves  a  kitchen  as  neat  as  a  pa- 
lace, and  we  will  make  a  study  of  the  inner 
room  for  Mr.  Dyrnock." 

*'  What!"  said  the  old  lady,  "  and  give  up 
our  parlor  !" 

"  Dear  mother,"  replied  the  young  girl  care- 
lessly, "  if  there  is  to  be  no  m^iid  but  poor  Ta- 
mar, why  should  not  the  kitchen  be  tlie  happiest 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  63 

place,  for  her  own  dear  mother?  You  shall  have 
your  chair  in  the  corner,  between  the  window 
and  the  fire-piace,  and  your  little  work-table  by 
it,  and  then  you  can  direct  me  without  moving 
from  your  needle.  Oh!  dear,  aunt  Margaret,"  she 
added,  "  I  am  beginning  to  think  that  we  shall  be 
happier  in  the  cottage,  than  ive  have  been  in  the 
Castle;  we  shall  have  fewer  cares,  and  shall  have 
a  pleasure  in  putting  our  small  means  to  the  best. 
Do  not  the  scatterings  of  the  flock,  aunt  Marga- 
ret, make  us  as  warm  iiose  as  the  prime  of  the 
fleece  V 

"  l^hat  may  be  doubted,"  replied  the  old  lady 
with  a  smile,  "  but  go  young  creature,  take  your 
way  ;  I  believe  ere  yet  you  have  done,  that  you, 
with  your  sunny  smile,  will  cheat  me  into  con- 
tentment before  I  know  what  I  am  about  ;  but 
mind,  my  lovely  one,'"  she  added,  "  I  will  tell 
you  hov>^  it  is.  1  have  been  led  to  see  how  God 
in  his  displeasure, — displeasure,  I  say,  on  ac- 
count of  the  pride  of  ancestry  and  station,  which 
I  have  hitherto  persisted  in  cherishing, — how 
God,  1  repeat,  in  his  displeasure  has  remembered 
mercy,  and,  in  taking  away  that  which  is  worth- 
less, has  left  me  that  which  is  most  precious, 
even  you  my  bright  one." 

The  old  lady  then  kissed  Tamar,  and  gave 
her  the  permission  she  required,  to  arrange  the 


64  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

cottage  according  to  her  own  fancy.  When 
the  day  of  removal  actually  arrived,  beinor  the 
day  after  the  Laird  had  walked  himself  off,  the 
neighbors,  with  Shanty  at  iheir  head,  came  to 
assist. 

Tamar  had  determined  upon  having  the  room 
within  the  kitchen,  for  her  beloved  father  by 
adoption  ;  a  village  artist  having  understood  her 
pious  wish,  had  stained  the  walls  of  light  grey, 
and  painted  the  frame  of  the  casement  window 
of  the  same  color.  Tamar  had  prepared  a  curtain 
of  some  light  drapery  for  the  window  ;  a  well- 
darned  carpet  covered  the  floor,  the  Laird's  book- 
cases occupied  one  entire  end  of  the  room  oppo- 
site the  window,  the  wonted  table  of  the  old  stu- 
dy at  the  Tower  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the 
floor,  and  was  covered  with  its  usual  cloth,  a 
somewhat  tarnished  baize,  with  a  border  worked 
in  crewels  by  Mrs.  Margaret  in  days  gone  by. 
In  the  centre  of  this  table  the  inkstand  was 
placed,  and  on  the  opposite  wall,  a  venerable 
time-piece,  asserted,  with  what  truth  we  presume 
not  to  say,  to  be  nearly  as  old  as  the  clock  sent 
by  Haroun  Al  Raschid  to  the  Emperor  Charle- 
magne. A  few  high-backed  chairs,  certain 
strange  chimney  ornaments,  and  other  little  mat- 
ters dear  to  the  Laird,  finished  the  furniture  of 
this  room,  and  Tamar  perfectly  laughed  with  joy, 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  65 

when,  having  seen  all  done,  she  became  aware 
that  this  small  apartment  was  in  fact  more  com- 
fortable than  the  cold,  wide,  many-drafted  study 
in  the  Tower. 

Those  who  were  with  her  caught  the  merry 
infection  and  laughed  too,  and  Shanty  said,  "But 
dear  one,  whilst  jou  thus  rejoice  in  your  own 
contrivances,  have  you  not  a  word  of  praise  to 
give  to  Him  who  has  spread  such  glories  as  no 
human  skill  could  create,  beyond  yon  little  win- 
dow?" The  old  man  then  opened  the  casement, 
and  showed  the  sweet  and  peaceful  scene  which 
there  presented  itself;  for  the  cottage  was  en- 
closed in  a  small  dell,  the  green  sides  of  which 
seemed  to  shut  out  all  the  world,  enclosing  with- 
in their  narrow  limits,  a  running  brook,  and 
hives  of  bees,  and  many  fragrant  flowers. 

Tamar  was  equally  successful,  and  equally 
well  pleased  wiUi  her  arrangements  in  other 
parts  of  the  cottage  ;  the  kitchen  opened  on  one 
side  to  a  little  flower  garden,  on  the  other  to  the 
small  yard,  where  Mrs.  Margaret  intended  to 
keep  her  poultry,  and  the  whole  domain  was  en- 
compassed by  the  small  green  field,  which  made 
up  the  extent  of  the  dell,  and  was  the  only  bit  of 
land  left  to  the  representative  of  ihe  house  of 
Dymock.  But,  Mrs.  Margaret  had  reckoned  that 
tfi^land  would  keep  a  little  favorite  cow,  and  with 
6* 


^  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

this  object  Tamar  had  taken  great  pains  to  learn 
me  to  milk. 

When  all  was  ready,  Mrs.  Margaret  with 
many  tears  look  leave  of  Dymock's  Tower;  she 
had  not  seen  the  process  of  preparation  in  the 
cottage,  and  was  therefore  perfectly  astonished 
whei^she  entered  the  house.  Tamar  received 
her  with  tears  of  tenderness,  and  the  worthy  lady 
having  examined  all  the  arrangements,  blessed 
her  adopted  one,  and  confessed  that  tliey  had  all 
in  that  place  that  man  really  required.  Neither 
did  she  or  Tamar  find  that  they  had  more  to  do 
than  was  agreeable  ;  if  they  had  no  servants  to 
wait  upon  them,  they  had  no  servants  to  disar- 
range their  house.  They  had  engaged  an  old 
cottager  on  the  moor  to  give  them  an  hour's 
work  every  evening,  and  for  this  they  paid  him 
with  a  stoup  of  milk,  or  some  odier  small  product 
of  their  dairy  ;  money  tliey  had  none  to  spare, 
and  this  he  knew, — nor  did  he  require  any  ;  he 
would  have  given  his  aid  to  the  fallen  family  for 
nothing,  had  it  been  asked  of  him. 

In  wild  and  thinly  peopled  countries,  there  is 
more  of  neighborly  affection, — more  of  private 
kindness  and  sympathy  than  in  crowded  cities. 
Man  is  a  finite  creature  ;  he  cannot  take  into  his 
heart  many  objects  at  once,  and  such  indeed,  is 
the  narrowness   of  his  comprehension,  that  h© 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  G7 

cannot  even  conceive  how  the  love  of  an  infinite 
being  can  be  generally  exercised  tlirough  crea- 
tion, U  is  from  this  incapacity  that  religious 
people,  at  least  too  many  of  them,  labor  so  sedu- 
lously as  they  do  to  instil  the  notion  of  the  parti- 
cularity of  the  work  of  salvation,  making  it  almost 
to  appear,  that  the  Almighty  Father  brings  beings 
into  existence,  merely  to  make  them  miserable, 
- — but  we  are  wandering  from  our  story. 

Aunt  Margaret  and  Tamar  had  been  at  the  cot- 
tage a  fortnight  before  Dymock  returned  ;  Ta- 
mar saw  him  first  coming  down  the  glen,  look- 
ing wearied,  dispirited  and  shabby. 

She  ran  out  to  meet  her  adopted  father,  and 
sprang  into  his  arms;  his  eyes  were  filled  with 
tears,  and  her  bright  smiles  caused  those  eyes  to 
overflow. 

She  took  his  hand,  she  brought  him  in,  she 
set  him  a  chair,  and  Mrs.  Margaret  kissing 
him,  said  "  Come,  Dymock,  brighten  up,  and 
thank  your  God  for  a  happy  home." 

Dymock  sighed,  Tamar  took  his  heavy  knap- 
sack from  him,  and  placed  before  him  bread  and 
butter,  and  cheese,  and  a  stoup  of  excellent  beer, 

"  Eat,  dear  father,"  she  said,  '*  and  then  you 
shall  go  to  bed,  (for  it  was  late  in  the  evening,) 
and  to-morrow  you  will  see  what  a  sweet  place 
this  is  ;"  but  poor  Dymo?k  could  not  rally  that 


68  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ^ 

night.  Tamar  had  always  slept  with  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet, and  the  best  room  of  tiie  two  above  stairs 
had  been  prepared  for  Dymock,  Mrs.  Margaret 
having  found  a  place  under  the  rafters  for  her  in- 
numerable boxes. 

Tlie  poor  Laird  slept  v/ell,  and  when  he  awoke 
the  sun  was  shining  into  his  room,  and  aunt  Mar- 
garet had  arranged  his  clean  clothes  at  the  foot  of 
his  bed  ;  he  arose  in  better  spirits,  and  dressing 
himself,  he  went  down  ;  he  found  Tamar  in  the 
kitchen,  and  she,  without  speaking,  took  his 
hand  and  led  him  to  his  study. 

The  poor  gentleman  could  not  bear  this  :  lie 
saw  the  sacrifice  his  aunt  had  made  for  him,  and 
tlie  exertions  also  which  Tamar  must  have  made 
to  produce  this  result,  and  he  fairl}'  wept;  but 
this  burst  of  agitation  being  over,  he  embraced 
his  adopted  child,  and  expressed  his  earnest  hope 
that  henceforward  he  might  be  enabled  to  live 
more  closely  with  his  God. 

But  the  mind  of  Dymock  was  not  a  well  ba- 
lanced one;  he  could  not  live  without  a  scheme, 
and  he  had  scarcely  been  two  days  in  the  cottage, 
when  he  re-aimed  at  the  ideas  which  he  had 
formerly  indulged  of  becoming  an  author,  and 
of  obtaining  both  fame  and  money  by  |jis  wri- 
tings. Mrs.  Margaret  was  fretted  when  she  was 
made   aware   of  this    plan,    and   sent  Tamar  to 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  69 

Shanty,  to  ask  him  lo  talk  him  out  of  the  fancy 
and  to  persuade  him  to  adopt  some  employment, 
if  it  were  only  digging  in  his  garden,  which  might 
bring  in  something;  but  Shanty  sentTamar  back 
to  Mrs.  Margaret  to  tell  her  that  she  ought  to  be 
thankful  that  there  was  anything  found  which 
would  keep  the  Laird  easy  and  quiet,  and  out  of 
the  way  of  spending  the  littla  which  he  had  left. 
Poor  Dymock,  therefore,  was  not  disturbed  in  his 
attempts  at  authorship,  and  there  he  used  to  sit  in 
his  study  with  slip-shod  feet,  an  embroidered 
dressing  gown,  which  Mrs.  Margaret  had  quilted 
from  an  old  curtain,  and  a  sort  of  turban  twisted 
about  his  head,  paying  no  manner  of  attention  to 
hours  or  seasons.  As  Mrs.  Margaret  only  allow- 
ed him  certain  inches  of  candle,  he  could  not  sit 
up  all  night  as  geniuses  ought  to  be  permitted  to 
do  ;  but  then  he  would  arise  with  the  lark  and  set 
to  work,  before  any  of  the  laborers  on  the  moor 
were  in  motion.  In  vain  did  Mrs.  Margaret 
complain  and  expostulate  ;  she  even  in  her  trouble 
sent  Tamar  again  to  Shanty  to  request  liim  to 
plead  with  the  Laird,  and  beg  him  to  allow  him- 
self to  enjoy  his  regular  rest;  but  in  this  case 
when  she  required  Shanty's  aid,  she  had  reckon- 
ed without  her  host. 

"  Go  back  to  Mrs.  Mar;^aret,  damsel,"  he  said, 
*'go   and    tell  the  lady  that  as  long  as  she  tan 


70  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

keep  the  Laird  from  work  by  candle  lighl,so  long 
no  harm  is  done,  and  if  instead  of  murmuring  at 
this  early  rising,  fair  child,  you  will  take  exam- 
ple by  him,  and  leave  your  bed  at  the  same  time 
that  you  hear  him  go  down,  you  will  do  well. 
He  that  lies  in  bed  gives  a  daily  opportunity  to 
his  servants,  if  he  has  any  to  serve  him,  to  do 
mischief  before  he  is  up,  and  she  that  rises  with  the 
sun  and  goes  straiglu  forward,  like  an  arrovv  in 
its  course,  in  (he  path  of  her  duties,  shall  find 
fewer  thorns  and  more  roses  in  that  path  than 
those  who  indulge  in  ease.  Through  divine  mer- 
cy," continued  the  old  man,  "our  own  exertions 
are  not  needed  for  the  assurance  of  our  salvation, 
but  sloth  and  carelessness  tend  to  penury  and  mis- 
ery, in  this  present  life  ;  and  there  is  no  sloth 
more  ruinous  to  health  and  property  than  that  of 
wasting  the  precious  morning  hours  in  bed." 

Tamar  was  not  deaf  to  the  pleadings  of  Shan- 
ty ;  she  began  immediately  to  lise  with  the  first 
crowing  of  the  cock,  and  thus  obtained  so  much 
time  for  her  business,  that  she  could  then  aflbrd 
herself  some  for  reading.  Mrs.  Margaret  took 
also  to  rise  early,  so  that  instead  of  breakfasting 
as  formerly  at  eight  o'clock,  the  family  took  that 
meal  at  seven  ;  but  the  Jjaird  often  managed  to 
have  such  bright  and  valuable  thoughts  just  at 
breakfast  time,  that  for  the  sake  of  posterity,  as 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  71 

he  was  wont  to  say,  he  could  by  no  means  en- 
danger the  loss  of  them  by  suffering  such  a  com- 
mon place  interruption  as  that  of  breakfast,  such 
an  every  day  and  vulgar  concern.  On  these  oc- 
casions Tamar  always  took  in  his  coffee  and  toast, 
and  set  it  before  him,  and  she  generally  had  the 
pleasure  ot  finding  that  he  took  what  she  brought 
him,  though  he  seldom  appeared  to  be  aware 
either  of  her  entrance  or  her  exit,  Mrs.  Margaret 
invariably  exclaiming  when  Tamar  reported  her 
reception  in  the  study,  *'  Lord  help  him  !  see 
what  it  is  to  be  a  genius." 

In  the  meantime,  the  moat  around  Dymock's 
Tower  was  repaired  and  filled  up,  or  was  fast 
filling  up  ;  the  drawbridge  was  in  its  place,  and 
the  gates  and  walls  restored  ;  and  as  the  neigh- 
bors said,  the  Tower  wanted  nothing  but  men 
and  provisions  to  enable  it  to  stand  a  siege.  At 
length,  all  being  pronounced  ready,  though  no 
interior  repairing  had  taken  place,  the  new  pos- 
sessor arrived,  bringing  with  him  two  servants, 
an  old  man  and  an  old  woman,  and  many  heavy 
packages,  which  were  stowed  in  a  cart,  and  lifted 
out  by  himself  and  his  man-servant,  whom  he 
called  Jacob.  This  being  done,  he  and  his  peo- 
ple were  heard  of  no  more,  or  rather  seen  no  more, 
being  such  close  housekeepers,  that  they  admit- 
ted no  one  over  the  moat,  though  the  man  Jacob, 


/3  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

rode  (o  the  nearest  market  every  week  on  the 
horse  which  had  dragged  the  baggage,  to  bring 
what  w2ts  required,  which,  it  was  said,  was  not 
niuch  more  than  was  necessary  to  keep  the  bodies 
and  souls  of  three  people  together. 

Numerous  and  strange  were  the  speculations 
made  by  all  people  on  the  moor  upon  these  new 
tenants  of  Dymock's  Tower,  and  Shanty's  shed 
was  a  principal  scene  of  these  speculations.  Va- 
rious were  the  reproaches  which  were  cast  on 
the  strangers,  and  no  name  was  too  bad  for  them. 

'•  Our  old  Laird."  one  remarked,  '*  was  worth 
ten  thousand  such.  As  long  as  he  had  a  crust, 
he  would  divide  it  with  any  one  that  wanted  it. 
Mark  but  his  behavior  to  the  poor-  orphan,  who 
is  now  become  the  finest  girl,  notwithstanding 
her  dark  skin,  in  all  the  country  round." 

Then  followed  speculations  on  the  parentage  of 
Tamar,  and  old  Siianty  asserted  that  he  believed 
her  to  be  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  daughter 
of  the  gipsy  hag  who  had  laid  her  at  his  door. 
Some  said  she  was  much  too  good  to  be  the  child 
of  a  gipsy  ;  and  then  Shanty  asserted,  that  the 
grace  of  God  could  counteract  not  only  the  nature 
of  a  child  of  a  vagrant  of  the  worst  description, 
but  even  tl)at  of  such  vagrant  luinself;  the  Spi- 
rit of  God  being  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharp- 
er than  a  two-edged  sword. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  73 

Shanty  vvas  a  sort  of  oracle  amongst  his  simple 
neighbors,  and  what  he  said  was  not  often  dis- 
puted to  his  face  ;  nevertheless,  there  was  not  an 
individual  on  the  moor  who  knew  Tamar,  who 
did  not  believe  her  to  be  a  princess  in  disguise, 
or  something  very  wonderful  ;  and,  at  the  bottom 
of  her  heart,  poor  Tamar  still  indulged  this  same 
belief,  thougii  she  did  not  now,  as  formerly  ex- 
press it. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June,  very  soon  after 
Mr.  Salmon  had  arrived  at  the  Tower,  and  before 
Dymock,  who  was  a  woful  procrastinator,  had 
gone  to  demand  the  last  payment,  that  Tamar, 
who  was  extraordinarily  light  and  active,  had 
undertaken  to  walk  to  the  next  village  to  procure 
some  necessaries  ;  she  had  three  miles  to  go  over 
the  moor,  nor  could  she  go  till  after  dinner.  Her 
way  lay  by  Shanty's  shed  ;  and  Mrs.  Margaret 
admonished  her  if  anything  detained  her,  to  call 
on  Shanty,  and  ask  him  to  walk  over  the  remain- 
der of  the  moor  with  her  on  her  return. 

When  she  came  down  from  preparing  herself 
for  this  walk,  all  gay  and  blooming  with  youth 
and  health,  and  having  a  basket  on  her  arm,  she 
met  Dymock  in  the  little  garden. 

*•  Whither  away  ?  beautiful  Maid  of  Judah,'» 
said  the  genius.  "  My  bright  eyed  Tamar,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  been  thinking  of  a  poem,  and  if  I 
7 


74  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

can  but  express  my  ideas,  it  will  be  the  means  of 
lifting  up  my  family  again  from  the  destitution 
into  which  it  has  fallen.  My  subject  is  the  re- 
storation of  Jerusalem  in  the  latter  days,  and  the 
lifting  up  of  the  daughters  of  Zion  from  the  dust. 
The  captives  of  Israel  now  are  hewers  of  wood 
and  carriers  of  water ;  but  the  time  will  come 
when  the  hands  that  now  wear  the  manacles  of 
servitude  shall  be  comely  with  rows  of  jewels." 

*'If  no  daughter  of  Judah,"  replied  Tamar, 
*'  wears  heavier  manacles  than  I  do,  dear  father, 
they  may  bear  them  with  light  hearts  :"  and,  as 
she  passed  quickly  by  her  adopted  father,  she 
snatched  his  hand  and  kissed  it,  and  soon  she 
disappeared  beyond  the  boundary  of  the  glen. 

Tamar  reached  the  village  in  so  short  a  time, 
and  did  her  errands  so  quickly,  that  having  some 
hours  of  light  before  her,  she  thought  she  would 
try  another  way  of  return,  over  a  small  bridge, 
which  in  fact  spanned  the  very  water-course 
which  ran  through  her  glen  ;  but  being  arrived 
at  this  bridge,  to  her  surprise  she  found  it  broken 
down.  It  was  only  a  single  plank,  and  the  wood 
had  rotted  and  given  way.  The  brook  was  too 
wide  and  deep  in  that  place  to  permit  her  to 
cross  it,  and  the  consequence  was,  that  she  must 
needs  go  round  more  than  a  mile  ;  and,  what 
added  to  her  embarrassment,  the  evening,  which 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  75 

had  been  fine,  was  beginning  to  cloud  over,  the 
darkness  of  tlie  sky  hastening  the  approach  of  the 
ihisk.  She  had  now  farther  to  walk  than  she  had 
when  in  the  village  ;  and,  added  to  the  threaten- 
ings  of  the  clouds,  there  were  frequent  flashings 
of  pale  lightning,  and  remote  murmurings  of 
thunder.  But  Tamar  was  not  easily  alarmed  ;  she 
been  brought  up  independently,  and  already  had 
she  recovered  the  direct  path  from  the  village  to 
Shanty's  shed,  when  suddenly  a  tall  figure  of  a 
female  arose,  as  it  were  out  of  the  broom  and 
gorse,  and  stepped  in  the  direction  in  which  she 
was  going,  walking  by  her  side  for  a  few  paces 
without  speaking  a  word. 

The  figure  was  that  of  a  gipsy,  and  the  gar- 
ments, as  Tamar  glanced  fearfully  at  them  as 
they  floated  in  a  line  with-her  steps,  bespoke  a 
variety  of  wretchedness  scarcely  consistent  with 
the  proud  and  elastic  march  of  her  who  wore 
them. 

Whilst  Tamar  felt  a  vague  sense  of  terror 
stealing  over  her,  the  woman  spoke,  addressing 
her  without  ceremony,  saying,  "  So  you  have 
been  driven  to  come  this  way  at  last  ;  have  you 
been  so  daintily  reared  that  you  cannot  wade  a 
burn  which  has  scarcely  deptli  enough  to  cover 
the  pebbles  in  its  channels.  Look  you,"  she  ad- 
ded, raising  her  arm,  and  pointing  her  finger, — 


76  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

"  see  vou  yon  rising  ground  to  the  left  of  those 
fir  trees  on  the  edge  of  the  moor, — from  the  sum- 
mit of  that  height  the  sea  is  visible,  and  I  must, 
ere  many  hours,  be  upon  those  waters,  in  such  a 
bark  as  you  delicately-bred  dames  would  not 
confide  in  on  a  summer's  day  on  Ulswater 
Mere." 

Whilst  the  woman  spoke,  Tamar  looked  to 
her  and  then  from  her,  but  not  a  word  did  she 
utter. 

*'  Do  you  mind  me  ?"  said  the  gipsy;  "  I  have 
known  you  long,  aye  very  long.  You  were  very 
small  when  I  brought  you  to  this  place.  I  did 
well  ior  you  then.     Are  you  grateful  !" 

Tamar  now  did  turn  and  look  at  her,  and  look- 
ed eagerly,  and  carefully,  and  intently  on  her 
dark  and  weather-be^^en  countenance. 

•'  Ah!"  said  the  gipsy,  whilst  a  smile  of  scorn 
distorted  her  lip, — "so  you  will  demean  your- 
self now  to  look  upon  me  ;  and  you  would  like 
to  know  what  I  could  tell  you  ?" 

*' Indeed,  indeed,  I  would  !"  exclaimed  Ta- 
mar, all  flushed  and  trembling.  "  Oh,  in  pity, 
in  mercy  tell  me  who  I  am  and  who  are  my  pa- 
rents ? — if  they  still  live;  if  I  have  any  chance 
or  hope  of  seeing  them?" 

*'  One  is  no  more,"  replied  the  gipsy.  "She 
from  whom  I  took  you  lies  in  the  earth  on  Nor- 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  77 

wood  Common.     I  stretched  the  corpse  myself, 
— it  was  a  bonny  corpse." 

Taraar  fetched  a  deep,  a  very  deep  sigh. 
♦*  Does  my  father  live  ?"  she  asked. 

*'  Your  father!"  repeated  the  gipsy,  with  a 
malignant  laugh, — "  your  father  !" 

Tamar  became  more  and  more  agitated ;  but 
excessive  feeling  made  her  appear  almost  insen- 
sible. With  great  effort  she  repeated, — "  Does 
my  father  live  ?" 

♦'  He  does,"  replied  the  woman,  with  a  malig- 
nant smile,  "  and  shall  I  tell  you  where  and  how? 
— shut  up,  confined  in  a  strong-hold,  caught  like 
a  vile  animal  in  a  trap.  Do  you  understand  me, 
Tamar  ?  I  think  they  call  you  Tamar." 

"  What !"  said  the  poor  girl,  gasping  for 
breath,  "is  my  father  a  convicted  felon?" 

"  I  used  no  such  words,"  replied  the  gipsy  ; 
"  but  I  told  you  that  he  lies  shut  up  ;  and  he  is 
watched  and  guarded,  too,  I  tell  you." 

*'  Then  he  has  forfeited  his  liberty,"  said 
Tamar  ;  "  he  has  committed  some  dreadful 
crime.     Tell  me,  Oh  !  teil  me,  what  is  it  ?" 

The  gipsy  laughed,  and  her  laugh  was  a  fright- 
ful one. 

''  What!"  she  said  "are  you  disappointed?-— 
is  the  blight  come  over  you  ?  has  the  black  fog 
shut  out  all  the  bright  visions  which  the  foolish 
7* 


78  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

L-aird  created  in  your  fancy  ?  Go,  child!"  she 
said,  '^  go  and  tell  him  what  1  have  told  you,  and 
see  whether  he  will  continue  to  cherish  and  flat- 
ter the  offspring  of  our  vagrant  race." 

«'He  will,"  replied  Tamar ;  "but  tell  me,  only 
tell  me,  what  is  that  mark  burnt  upon  my  shoul- 
der !" 

"Your  father  branded  you,"  she  answered 
**as  we  do  all  our  children,  lesi  in  our  many 
wanderings  we  should  lose  sight  of  our  own,  and 
not  know  them  again;  but  come,"  she  added, 
"  the  night  draws  on,  darkness  is  stealing  over 
the  welkin  ;  you  are  for  the  shed  ;  there  is  your 
pole-star;  see  you  the  fitful  glare  of  the  forge? 
— I  am  for  another  direction  ;  fare-you-well." 

*'  Stay,  stay,"  said  Tamar,  seizing  her  arm, 
"  Oh,  tell  me  more  !  tell  me  more  !  My  father, 
if  I  have  a  living  father,  I  owe  him  a  duty, — 
where  is  he  ?  Tell  me  where  he  is,  for  the  love 
of  heaven  tell  me  ?" 

The  woman  shook  her  off, — •*  Go,  fool,"  she 
said,  "you  know  enough;  or  stay,"  she  added, 
in  her  turn  seizing  Tamar's  arm, — '•  if  you  like 
it  better,  leave  those  Dymocks  and  come  with 
me,  and  you  shall  be  one  with  us,  and  live  with 
us,  and  eat  with  us  and  drink  with  us." 

"  No  !  no  !  said  Tamar,  with  piercing  shriek, 
disengaging  herself  from  the  gipsy,  and  lunning 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  79 

with  the  swiftness  of  a  hare,  towards  the  friendly 
hovel. 

Old  Shanty  was  alone,  when,  all  pale  and 
trembling,  Tamar  entered  the  shed,  and  sunk, 
half  fainting,  on  the  very  bench  on  which  the 
gipsy  had  sate  on  the  eventful  night  in  which 
she  had  brought  her  to  the  hovel  fourteen  years 
before. 

Shanty  was  terrified,  for  he  had  a  paternal 
feeling  for  Tamar ;  he  ceased  immediately  from 
his  hammering,  and  sitting  himself  by  Iier  on  the 
bench,  he  rested  not  until  she  had  told  him  every 
thing  which  had  happened;  and  when  she  had 
done  so, — "  Tamar,"  he  said,  "I  am  not  sur- 
prised ;  I  never  thought  you  any  thing  else  than 
the  child  of  a  vagrant,  nor  had  you  ever  any 
ground  for  thinking  otherwise.  There  are  many 
imaginations,"  added  the  pious  old  man,  "  which 
attend  our  nature,  which  must  be  destroyed  be- 
fore we  can  enter  into  that  perfect  union  with  the 
Son,  vviiich  will  render  us  one  with  the  Father, 
and  will  insure  our  happiness  when  God  shall  be 
all  in  all,  and  when  all  that  is  foretold  in  prophe- 
cy respecting  this  present  earth  shall  be  comple- 
ted. Sin,"  continued  the  old  man,  "  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  non-conformity  of  the  will 
of  the  creature  with  that  of  the  Creator;  and 
when  the  will  of  every  child  of  Adam  is  brought 


80  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

into  unison  with  the  divino  pleasure,  then,  as  far 
as  our  race  is  concerned,  tliere  will  be  an  end  of 
sin  ;  and,  in  particular  cases,  Tamar,  as  regard- 
ing individuals  in  the  present  and  past  days, 
each  one  is  happy,  not  as  far  as  he  indulges  ilie 
imaginations  suggested  by  his  own  depraved  na- 
ture, but  as  far  as  he  is  content  to  be  what  his 
God  would  have  him  to  be,  as  indicated  by  the 
circumstances  and  arrangements  of  things  about 
him." 

It  was  marvellous  (or  rather  would  have  been 
so  to  a  stranger,)  to  hear  this  poor  old  dusky- 
blacksmith,  speaking  and  reasoning  as  he  did  ; 
but  who  shall  limit  or  set  bounds  to  the  power 
of  the  Lord,  the  Spirit,  in  enlightening  the 
mind,  independently  as  it  were,  of  human  minis- 
try, or  at  least  of  any  other  ministry  than  that 
which  teaches  and  promulgates  the  mere  letter 
of  Scripture  ? 

Tamar's  mind  was  at  that  time  fully  prepared 
to  receive  all  that  Shanty  said  to  her,  and,  insen- 
sibly to  themselves,  they  were  presently  led  al- 
most to  forget  the  information  given  by  the  gip- 
sy, (which  in  fact  left  Tamar  just  as  it  had  found 
her,)  whilst  new  thoughts  were  opening  to  them; 
and  the  young  girl  was  brought  to  see,  that  in 
her  late  anxiety  to  render  the  kind  friends  who 
had  adopted  her,  comfortable  as  to  outward  cir- 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  81 

ciimstances,  she  had  failed  in  using  her  filial  in- 
fluence to  draw  their  attention  to  thoughts  of  re- 
ligion. 

Shanty  put  on  his  coat,  and  walked  with  her 
over  the  rest  of  the  moor,  nor  did  he  leave  Hea- 
therdale  (where  Mrs.  Margaret  insisted  that  he 
siiould  sup,)  until  he  had  opened  out  to  the  Laird 
and  his  aunt  the  whole  history  of  Tamar's  ren- 
counter with  the  gipsy.  It  was  curious  to  observe 
the  effect  of  this  story  on  the  minds  of  the  two 
auditors.  Mrs.  Margaret  embraced  Tamar  with 
tears,  saying,  "  Methinks  I  am  rejoiced  that 
there  is  no  one  likely  to  claim  my  precious  one 
from  me;"  whilst  the  Laird  exclaimed,  "I  am 
not  in  the  least  convinced.  The  gipsy  has,  no 
doubt,  some  scheme  of  her  own  in  view.  She  is 
afraid  of  being  found  out,  and  transported  for 
child-stealing  ;  but  I  wish  I  could  see  her,  to  tell 
her  that  I  no  more  believe  my  palm-tree  to  have 
sprung  from  the  briars  of  the  Egyptian  wilder- 
ness, 'than  that  I  am  not  at  this  moment  the 
Laird  of  Dymock." 

*'  Lord  help  you,  nephew  !"  said  Mrs.  Marga- 
ret, *'  if  poor  dear  Tamar's  noble  birth  has  not 
more  substantial  foundation  than  your  lairdship, 
I  believe  that  she  must  be  content  as  she  is, — 
the  adopted  daughter  of  a  poor  spinster,  who  has 
nothing  to  leave  behind  her  but  a  few  bales  of 
old  clothes." 


82  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

"  Contented,  my  mother,"  said  Tamar,  burst- 
into  tears,  could  I  be  contented  if  taken  from 
you  ?" 

Thus  the  affair  of  the  gipsy  passed  off.  The 
Laird,  indeed,  talked  of  raising  the  country  to 
catch  the  randy  quean  ;  but  all  these  resolutions 
were  speedily  forgotten,  and  no  result  ensued 
from  this  alarm,  but  that  which  Almighty  power 
produced  from  it  in  the  mind  of  Tamar,  by  ma- 
king her  more  anxious  to  draw  the  minds  of  her 
patrons  to  religion. 

After  this,  for  several  weeks  things  went  on 
much  as  usual  on  Dymock's  moor.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Tower  were  so  still  and  quiet,  that 
unless  a  thin  curl  of  smoke  had  now  and  then 
been  seen  rising  from  the  kitchen  chimney,  all 
the  occupants  might  have  been  supposed  to  have 
been  in  a  state  of  enchantment.  Jacob,  however, 
the  dwarfish,  deformed  serving  man,  did  cross 
the  moat  at  intervals,  and  came  back  laden  with 
food  ;  but  he  was  so  surly  and  short,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  get  a  word  of  information  from  him, 
respecting  that  which  was  going  on  within  the 
moat.  Whilst  Dymock  scribbled,  his  aunt  darn- 
ed, Shanty  hammered,  and  Tamar  formed  the  do- 
light  and  comfort  of  all  the  three  last  mentioned 
elders.  But  some  settlement  was  necessarily  to 
be  made  respecting  Mr.  Salmon's  last  payment, 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  83 

which  had  run  up,  witli  certain  fixtures,  and 
old  pictures,  for  which  there  was  no  room  in  the 
cottage,  to  nearly  six  hundred  pounds,  and  after 
much  pressing  and  persuading  on  the  part  of  Mrs. 
Margaret,  the  Laird  was  at  length  worked  up  to 
the  point  of  putting  on  his  very  best  clothes,  and 
going  one  morning  to  the  Tower.  He  had  boast- 
ed that  he  would  not  appear  but  as  the  Laird  of 
Dymock  in  Dymock  castle  ;  therefore,  though  the 
weather  was  warm,  he  assumed  his  only  remains 
of  handsome  apparel,  viz.:  a  cloak  or  mantle  of 
blue  cloth,  and  with  a  hat,  which  was  none  of  the 
best  shape,  on  his  head,  he  walked  to  the  edge  of 
the  moat,  and  there  stood  awhile  calling  aloud. 

At  length  Jacob  appeared  on  the  other  side,  and 
knowing  the  Laird,  he  turned  the  bridge,  over 
which  Dymock  walked  with  sullen  pride. 

*'  I  would  see  your  master,  where  is  he  ?"  said 
the  Laird,  as  soon  as  he  got  into  the  court. 

The  eye  of  the  dwarf  directed  that  of  Dymock 
to  the  window  of  a  small  room  in  a  higher  part 
of  the  keept  and  the  Laird,  without  waiting  fur- 
ther permission,  walked  forward  into  the  Tower- 
It  gave  him  pain  to  see  all  the  old  and  well 
remembered  objects  again  ;  but  it  also  gave  him 
pleasure  to  find  everything  in  its  place  as  he  had 
left  it — even  the  very  du&t  on  the  mouldings  and 
cornices, which  had  remained  imdisturbed  through 


84  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

the  reign  of  Mrs.  Margaret,  from  the  absolute 
impossibility  of  reaching  the  .lofty  site  of  these 
depositions,  was  still  there.  Not  an  article  of  new 
furniture  was  added,  while  the  old  furniture  look- 
ed more  miserable  and  scanty,  on  account  of  some 
of  the  best  pieces  having  been  taken  out  to  fill  the 
cottage. 

Dymock  walked  through  the  old  circular 
hall,  the  ground-floor  of  the  Tower,  and  went 
up  the  stairs  to  the  room  where  Mrs.  Margaret 
used  to  sit  and  darn  in  solitary  state  ;  there 
was  the  oriel  window,  which  hanging  over  the 
moat,  commanded  a  glorious  view  on  three  sides. 
Dymock  walked  up  to  this  window,  and  stood 
in  the  oriel,  endeavoring,  if  possible,  to  under- 
stand what  the  feelings  of  his  ancestors  might 
have  been,  when  they  could  look  from  thence,  and 
call  all  the  lands  their  own  as  far  as  the  border, 
without  counting  many  broader  and  fairer  fields, 
in  the  southern  direction. 

Whilst  waiting  there  in  deep  and  melancholy 
mood,  suddenly  his  eye  fell  on  the  airy  figure  of 
Tamar  standing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  moat, 
and  looking  up  to  him  ;  as  soon  as  she  caught 
his  eye,  she  kissed  her  hand  and  waved  it  to  him, 
and  well  he  could  comprehend  the  sparkling 
smile  which  accompanied  this  motion,  though 
he  was  too  far  oflf  to  see   it.     *'And   art   thou 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  85 

not,  fair  Maid  of  Judah,"  said  the  affectionate 
genius,  "  worth  to  me  all  the  broad  lands  of  my 
fathers?  Could  they  purchase  for  me  such 
love  as  ihine  ?  Art  thou  not  the  little  ewe  lamb 
of  the  poor  man  ? — but  none  shall  ever  have  thee 
from  me  my  daughter,  but  one  entirely  worthy 
of  thee!" 

Scarcely  had  Dymock  returned  the  courtesy  of 
Tamar,  before  Jacob,  who  had  run  to  the  top  of 
the  Tower  before  him,  came  to  tell  him  that  his 
master  was  ready  to  see  him,  and  Dymock,  who 
needed  no  guide,  soon  found  himself  at  the  head 
of  several  more  rounds  of  stairs,  which  got  nar- 
rower as  they  ascended,  and  in  front  of  a  narrow 
door  well  studded  witii  knobs  of  iron.  Within 
this  door  was  a  room,  which  in  time  past  had 
been  used  for  security,  either  for  prisoners, 
treasures,  or  other  purposes, — tradition  said  not 
what, — but  it  still  had  every  requisite  of  strength, 
the  narrow  windows  being  provided  with  staun- 
cheons  of  iron,  and  the  walls  covered  with  strong 
wainscotting,  in  one  siile  of  which  were  sliding 
pannels  opening  into  a  closet.  The  secret  of 
these  pannels  was  known  only  to  Dymock,  and 
lie  when  he  sold  the  castle,  had  revealed  it  to 
Mr.  Salmon,  vaunting  the  great  service  of  which 
this  secret  closet  had  been,  in  keeping  plate  and 
other  valuables,  though  he  acknowledged,  poor 
8 


86  SHANTY  THE  BLA.CKS3IITH  ; 

man,  that  he  had  never  made  any  great  use  of 
tills  mysterious  conservatory. 

It  seems  that  Mr.  Salmon  had  appropriated 
this  same  room  to  his  especial  use  ;  his  bed, 
which  in  the  French  taste  was  covered  with  a 
lent-like  tester,  occupied  one  nook,  and  the  cur- 
tains, as  well  as  the  floor-cloth,  were  of  very 
rich,  but  tarnished  and  threadbare  materials. 
Several  ponderous  tomes  in  vellum  emblazoned 
with  gold,  were  placed  on  a  ledge  of  the  wall 
near  the  bed  ;  a  square  table,  a  trunk  strongly 
clamped  with  brass,  and  an  old  fashioned  easy 
chair,  completed  the  furniture. 

And  now  for  the  first  time  Dymock  saw  Mr. 
Salmon  in  his  dishabille.  The  old  gentleman  had 
laid  aside  his  coat,  probably  that  it  might  be 
spared  unnecessary  wear  and  tear ;  he  wore  a 
claret  colored  waistcoat  with  large  flaps,  orr 
which  were  apparent  certain  tarnished  remains 
of  embroidery  ;  his  lower  extremities,  as  far  as 
the  knees,  were  encased  in  a  texture  the  color 
of  which  had  once  been  pepper  and  salt,  and  from 
the  knee  downwards  he  wore  a  pair  of  home- 
manufactured,  grey  worsted  stockings,  which 
proved  that  his  housekeeper  was  by  no  means 
inferior  to  Mrs.  Margaret  in  her  darning  talents, 
though  we  must  do  the  Laird's  aunt  the  justice 
to  assert,  that  she  nev^r  darned  stockings  with 
more  than  three  difl!erent  colors. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  87 

His  slippers,  both  sole  and  upper  part,  had  evi- 
dently at  one  time  formed  a  covering  of  a  floor, 
though  what  the  original  pattern  and  colors  had 
been,  could  not  now  be  made  out.  With  all  this 
quaintness  of  attire,  the  old  man  had  the  general 
appearance  of  neatness  and  cleanliness,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
would  have  been  far  from  ill-looking. 

He  received  Dymock  with  a  sort  of  quiet  civili- 
ty, not  unlike  that  which  a  cat  assumes  when  she 
is  aware  of  a  mouse,  and  yet  does  not  perceive 
that  the  moment  is  come  to  pounce  upon  it. 
Dymock  drew  near  to  the  table,  and  accosted 
Mr.  Salmon  with  his  usual  courteous,  yet  care- 
less manner,  and  having  apologized  for  coming 
at  all  on  such  an  errand,  wishing  that  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  money  in  the  world,  he 
presented  the  inconclusive  and  inefficient  me- 
morandum, which  the  old  gentleman  had  given 
him,  "  trusting  as  he  said,  that  it  would  be  no 
inconvenience  for  him  to  pay  what  he  conceived 
would  be  a  mere  trifle  to  him." 

Mr.  Salmon  had,  it  seems,  forgotten  to  ask 
Dymock  tositdown  ;  indeed,  there  was  no  chair 
in  tlie  room  but  that  occupied  by  his  own  person  ; 
however,  he  took  his  own  note  from  the  Laird's 
hands,  and  having  examined  it,  he  said,  "  But 
Mr.  Dymock,  there  are^conditions,— -the  memo- 


88  SIIAXTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

rantlum  is  conditional,  and  I  understand  tliereby, 
tliat  I  undertake  to  pay  such  and  such  moneys 
for  such  and  such  ariicles." 

"  Well  Sir,  and  have  you  not  these  articles  in 
possession  ?''  asked  Dymock  ;  have  I  remove'l 
a  single  item,  which  I  told  you  on  the  honor  of 
a  gentleman  should  be  yours  on  such  and  such 
conditions,  and  did  you  not  tell  me  that  you 
would  pay  me  a  certain  sum,  on  entering  into 
possession  of  these  articles  ?" 
s  *'  What  I  did  say.  Sir,"  replied  the  old  man, 
"is  one  thing,  or  rather  what  you  choose  to  as- 
sert that  I  did  say,  and  what  is  written  here  is 
another  thing." 

"  Sir  !"  replied  Dymock,  "Sir  !  do  you  give  me 
the  lie  ? — -direct  or  indirect,  I  will  not  bear  it  5  I, 
a  son  of  the  house  of  Dymock,  to  be  thus  beard- 
ed in  my  own  Tower,  to  be  told  that  what  I  choose 
to  assert  may  not  be  true  ;  that  I  am,  in  fact,  a 
deceiver, — a  sharper, — one  that  would  prevari- 
cate for  sordid  pelf!"  What  more  the  worthy 
man  added,  our  history  does  not  say,  but  that  he 
added  much,  cannot  be  disputed,  and  that  he 
poured  forth  in  hij^h  and  honorable  indignation, 
many  sentiments  which  would  have  done  credit 
both  to  the  gentleman  and  the  christian. 

In  the  meantime  the  old  man  had  drawn  a  huge 
bunch  of  keys  from   his  pocket,  and  had  delibe- 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  89 

rately  opened  the  trunk  before  mentioned,  at  the 
top  of  which  wi3re  sundry  yellow  canvass  bags  of 
specie  ;  he  next  fitted  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  his 
nose,  and  then  raising  the  cover  of  the  table, 
he  drew  out  a  drawer  containing  a  pair  of  scales, 
and  began  to  weigh  his  guineas,  as  if  to  make  a 
show  of  that  of  which  he  had  none, — honesty  : 
and  the  Laird  having  spent  iiis  indignation,  was 
become  quiet,  and  stood  looking  on,  in  a  some- 
what indolent  and  slouching  attitude,  making  no 
question  but  that  his  honorable  reasonings  had 
prevailed,  and  that  Mr.  Salmon  was  about,  with- 
out further  hesitation,  to  pay  him  the  five  hundred 
and  ninety-four  pounds,  ten  shillings,  and  six- 
pence, which  were  his  just  due. 

Whilst  Salmon  went  on  with  this  process  of 
weighing,  which  lie  did  with  perfect  sang-froid, 
lie  began  to  mutter,  "Five  hundred  and  ninety- 
four  pounds,  ten  shillings,  and  six-pence ;  too 
much,  too  much  by  half,  for  worm-eaten  bed- 
steads and  chairs,  darned  curtains  and  faded  por- 
traits ;  but  Mr.  Dymock,  to  show  you  that  I  am 
a  man  of  honor,  I  will  pay  you  at  this  moment 
four  hundred  pounds  in  the  King's  gold,  and  the 
remainder,  that  is,  the  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
four  pounds,  ten  shillings,  and  six-pence, shall  be 
put  to  arbitration;  we  will  go  over  each  item, 
you  and  I,  and  a  friend  of  each,  and  we  will  ex- 
8* 


90 


SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 


amine  every  article  together,  and  if  it  is  decided 
that  the  things  are  worth  the  money,  well  and 
good,  it  sliall  be  so,  and  I  will  forthwith  pay 
down  the  residue,  though  not  compelled  so  to  do 
hy  bond  or  signature*" 

Again  the  hot  blood  of  the  Dymocks  rose  to 
the  brow  of  the  Laird  ;  by  an  amazing  effort  of 
prudence  and  presence  of  mind,  however,  he 
caught  up  Salmon's  note  from  the  table,  a  motion 
which  made  the  old  man  start,  look  up,  and  turn 
yellow,  and  then  whisking  round  on  his  heel,  with 
an  expression  of  sovereign  contempt,  the  Laird 
turned  out  of  the  room,  exclaiming,  "  I  scorn  to 
address  another  word  to  thee,  old  deceiver;  I 
shake  the  dust  of  thy  floor  from  my  foot ;  I  shall 
send  those  to  talk  with  thee,  whose  business  it  is 
to  deal  with  deceivers ;  and  thus  he  quitted  the 
chamber,  drawing  the  door  after  him  with  a  force 
which  made  every  chamber  in  the  Tower  rever- 
berate. 

Li  descending  the  spiral  stairs,  he  came  to  a 
narrow  window,  which  oveilooked  the  moat,  and 
from  thence  he  saw  Tamar  lingering  on  the  other 
side  thereof.  He  stood  a  moment  and  she  called 
to  him ;  her  words  were  these, — "  Have  you 
sped  r"  in  reply  to  which,  protruding  his  head 
through  the  narrow  aperture,  he  said:  "No!  the 
man's  a  low   and   despicable   deceiver,"   adding 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  91 

Other  terms  which  were  by  no  means  measured 
by  tlie  rules  of  prudence  or  even  courtesy  ;  these 
words  were  not,  however,  lost  on  Taniar,  and 
by  what  she  then  heard,  she  was  induced  to  take 
a  measure  which  had  she  deliberated  longer 
thereon,  she  might  not  have  ventured  upon. 

Dymock  having  spent  his  breath  and  his  indig- 
nation through  the  window,  to  the  disturbance  of 
sundry  bats  and  daws,  whi<!h  resided  in  the  roof 
of  the  Tower,  was  become  so  calm  that  he  made 
the  rest  of  his  descent  in  his  usually  tranquil  and 
sluggish  style,  and  even  before  he  had  crossed  the 
court  towards  the  draw-bridge,  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  get  Shanty  to  settle  this  knotty  busi- 
ness, feeling  that  the  old  blacksmith  would  have 
been  the  proper  person  to  have  done  it  from  the 
first. 

Jacob,  the  ugly,  ill-conditioned  serving-man, 
was  waiting  to  turn  the  light  bridge,  and  had  Dy- 
mock looked  upon  him,  he  would  have  seen  that 
there  was  triumph  on  the  features  of  this  deformed 
animal,  for  Jacob  was  in  all  his  master's  secrets  ; 
he  knew  that  he  meant  to  cheat  the  Laird,  and  he 
being  Salmon's  foster  brother,  already  counted 
upon  his  master's  riches  as  his  own.  Salmon's 
constitution  was  failing  rapidly,  and  Jacob,  there- 
fore, soon  hoped  to  gather  in  his  golden  harvest. 

Jacob  too,  hated  every  creature  about  him,  and 


92  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

his  hatred  being  inherited  from  his  parents,  was 
likely  to  be  coeval  with  his  life.  The  cause  of 
this  hatred  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel ;  but  Ja- 
cob had  no  sooner  turned  the  bridge  and  fixed  it 
against  the  opposite  bank,  than  Tamar  springing 
from  behind  a  cluster  of  bushes,  jumped  lightly- 
on  the  boards,  and  the  next  moment  she  was  with 
Dyraock  and  Jacob  on  the  inner  side  of  the 
moat  under  the  tower. 

Jacob  had  started  back,  as  if  he  had  seen  a 
spectre,  at  the  appearance  of  the  blooming,  spark- 
ling Tamar,  who  came  forward  without  hat  or 
other  head  dress,  her  raven  tresses  floating  in  the 
breeze. 

"  Why  are  you  here,  my  daughter  ?"  said  Dy- 
mock. 

*'Do  not  restrain  me,  dear  father,"  she  an- 
swered, "you  have  not  sped  you  say,  only  per- 
mit me  to  try  my  skill ;"  and  then  turning  sud- 
denly to  Jacob,  she  drew  herself  up,  as  Dymock 
would  have  said,  like  a  daughter  of  kings,  and 
added,  "  show  me  to  your  master,  I  have  busi- 
ness with  him  ;  go  and  tell  him  that  I  am  here, 
and  that  I  would  see  him." 

*'  And  who  are  you  ?"  asked  Jacob,  not  inso- 
lently as  was  his  wont,  but  as  if  under  the  im- 
pression of  some  kind  of  awe ;  "  who  shall  I 
say  you  are?'^ 


A  TALE  or  OTHER  TL-MES.  93 

Dymock  was  about  to  answer;  but  Tamar 
placed  her  hand  playfully  on  his  lips,  and  took  no 
other  notice  of  the  question  of  the  serving  man, 
but  by  repeating  her  command. 

"  What  are  you  doing, — what  do  you  propose 
to  do,  Tamar?"  said  the  Laird.  Tamar  was  fully 
aware  that  she  had  power  to  cause  her  patron  at 
any  time,  to  yield  to  her  caprices  ;  and  she  now 
used  this  power,  as  women  know  so  well  how  to 
effect  these  things — not  by  reason  or  persuasion, 
but  by  those  playful  manoeuvrings,  which  used  in 
an  evil  cause  have  wrought  the  ruin  of  many  a 
more  steadfast  character  than  Dymock. 

*'I  have  a  thought,  dear  father,"  she  said,  "  a 
wish,  a  fancy,  a  mere  whim,  and  you  shall  not 
oppose  me  :  only  remain  where  you  are ;  keep 
guard  upon  the  bridge,  I  shall  not  be  absent  long, 
only  tell  me  how  it  has  happened  that  your  er- 
rand here  has  failed,  and  you,"  she  added,  ad- 
dressing Jacob,  "  go  to  your  master  and  tell  him 
I  am  here." 

"  Why  do  you  stand  ?"  she  added,  stamping 
her  little  foot  with  impatience  ;  "why  do  you  not 
obey  me  ?"  and  her  dark  eyes  flashed  and  spark- 
led, "  go  and  tell  your  master  that  1  wish  to  see 
him." 

"And  who  must  I  tell  him  that  you  are?"  he 
asked. 


94  STIAXTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

"My  name  has  been  mentioned  in  your  pre- 
sence," she  replied,  "  and  if  you  did  not  hear  it 
the  fault  is  your  own  ;  it  will  not  be  told  again." 

"Are  you  the  daughter  of  tliis  gentleman?" 
asked  Jacob.  ! 

"  You  have  heard  what  he  called  me,"  she  an- 
swered, "go  and  deliver  my  message." 

Whilst  Jacob  was  gone,  for  go  he  did,  at  the 
young  girl's  bidding,  Dymock  told  Tamar  all  that 
had  taken  place  in  Mr.  Salmon's  room,  and  Ta- 
m^r  confessed  her  wish  to  be  permitted  to  speak 
to  the  old  gentleman  herself.  Dymock  was  glad 
that  any  one  should  undertake  this  business,  pro- 
vided he  could  be  relieved  from  it,  and  he  pro- 
mised Tamar  that  he  would  stand  by  the  bridge 
and  watch  for  her  till  her  return. 

"  Then  I  will  go  myself  up  to  the  Tower  and 
demand  admission  :"  so  saying  she  ran  from 
Dymock,  coursed  rapidly  through  the  various 
courts,  and  swift  as  the  wind  ascended  the  stairs, 
meeting  no  one  in  her  way.  She  found  the  door 
of  Salmon's  chamber  ajar,  and  pushing  it  open 
she  entered,  and  stood  before  Salmon,  Jacob,  and 
Rebecca  (the  old  woman  before  mentioned  as 
having  come  with  Mr.  Salmon  to  the  Tower ;) 
these  three  were  all  deep  in  consultation,  Mr. 
Salmon  being  still  seated  where  the  Laird  had 
left  hira. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  95 

As  Tamar  burst  upon  them  in  all  the  light  of 
youth,  of  beauty,  and  of  conscious  rectitude  in 
the  cause  for  which  she  came,  the  three  remained 
fixed  as  statues,  Jacob  and  Rebecca  in  shrnking* 
attitudes,  their  eyes  set  fearfully  upon  her,  their 
faces  gathering  paleness  as  they  gazed ;  whilst 
Salmon  flushed  to  the  brow,  his  eyes  distended 
and  his  mouth  half  open. 

The  young  girl  advanced  near  to  the  centre  of 
the  room  and  casting  a  glance  around  her,  in 
which  might  be  read  an  expression  of  contempt 
quite  free  from  fear,  she  said,  "  I  am  come  by 
authority  to  receive  the  just  dues  of  the  late  pos- 
sessor of  this  place,  and  I  require  the  sum  to  be 
told  into  my  hand,  and  this  I  require  in  the  name 
of  Him  who  rules  on  high,  and  who  will  assu- 
redly take  cognizance  of  any  act  of  fraud  used  to- 
wards a  good  and  honorable  man." 

*'And  who?  and  who?"  said  Salmon,  his 
teeth  actually  chattering,  "  who  are  you  ?  and 
whence  came  you  ?" 

"  I  come  from  the  Laird  of  Dymock,"  she  an- 
swered, "  and  in  his  name  I  demand  his  rights  !" 
"You,   you,"   said   Salmon,    "you    are   his 
daughter?" 

"  That  remains  to  be  told,"  replied  Tamar, 
"  what  or  who  I  am,  is  nothing  to  you,  nor  to 
you,  nor  you,"  she  added,  looking  at  Jacob  and 


96  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

Rebecca,  her  eye  being  arrested  for  a  minute  on 
each,  by  the  singular  expression  which  passed 
over  their  countenances.  *  "  Give  me  the  Laird's 
dues  and  you  shall  hear  no  more  from  me," 
she  said,  "  never  again  will  I  come  to  trouble 
yourdulness;  but,  if  you  deny  it  to  me,  you 
shall  never  rest  from  me  ; — no,  no,  I  will  haunt 
you  day  and  night,"  and  getting  hotter  as  she 
continued  to  speak,  "  you  shall  have  no  rest  from 
me,  neither  moat  nor  stone  walls  shall  keep  me 
out."  She  was  thinking  at  that  moment  of  the 
secret  passage  by  which  she  fancied  she  might 
get  into  the  Tower,  if  at  this  time  she  did  not 
succeed ;  it  was  a  wild  and  girlish  scheme, 
and  whether  practicable  or  not,  she  had 
no  time  to  think.  As  she  uttered  these  last  words 
Salmon  rose  slowly  from  his  seat,  pushed  his 
chair  from  behind  him  and  stepped  back,  a  livid 
paleness  covering  his  features  whilst  he  exclaim- 
ed :  "  Are  you  in  life  ?  or  are  you  a  terrible  vi- 
sion of  my  fancy  ?  Jacob, — Rebecca, — do  yon 
see  it  too  ? — Ah  !  you  look  pale,  as  those  who 
see  the  dead — is  it  not  so  ?  ' 

The  terror  now  expressed  in  the  three  coun- 
tenances, was  rapidly  extending  to  the  Ifeart  of 
Tamar.  What  can  all  this  mean,  she  thought, 
what  is  there  about  me  that  thus  appals  them?  It 
is  their  own  guilt  that  renders  them  fearful ;  but 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  97 

why  sliould  I  fear?  now  is  the  moment  for 
strength  of  heart,  and  may  heaven  grant  it  to  me. 
Having  strength  given  her  ;  she  again  demanded 
the  just  due  of  her  guardian. 

"  It  would  be  better  to  give  it,"  muttered 
Jacob  ;  and  Rebecca  at  the  same  time  screeched 
out,  "  In  the  name  of  our  father  Abraham,  give 
her  what  she  asks,  master, — and  let  her  go, — let 
her  go  to  her  father, — to  him  that  has  reared  her, 
and  yet  disowns  her, — let  her  go  to  him  ;  or  like 
the  daughters  of  Moab  she  will  bring  a  curse  on 
our  house." 

*'  Hold  your  tongue,  you  old  fool,"  said  Jacob, 
*'  what  do  you  know  of  her,  and  of  him  who  was 
once  Laird  of  Dymock  ?  But,  master,"  he  added 
♦'  pay  the  girl  what  she  asks,  and  I  will  go  down 
and  get  back  your  note,  and  once  for  all  we  will 
shut  our  doors  upon  these  people." 

"  But  I  would  know,"  said  Salmon,  "  I  would 
know  whence  that  girl  has  those  eyes,  which  are 
bright  as  the  bride  of  Solomon, — as  Rachel's," 
he  added,  "  they  are  such  as  hers." 

•'  Go  to,"  said  Jacob,  "  what  folly  is  this,  tell 
the  money  to  the  girl,  and  let  her  go." 

"Jacob!  Jacob  I  "  exclaimed  Salmon,  I  am 

ruined,  undone,  I  shall  come  to  beggary, — iive 

hundred  and  ninety-four  pounds,  ten  shillings  and 

sixpe.gce,"  and  the  teeth  of  the  old  man  began 

9 


98  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

to  chatter,  terror  and  dotage  and  cunning,  seem- 
ing to  be  striving  within  him  for  the  mastery, 
and  altogether  depriving  him  of  the  power  of 
acting, 

Jacob  muttered  one  or  two  indistinct  impreca- 
tions, then  approaching  the  table  himself,  he  told 
the  gold  from  the  bags  with  the  facility  of  a  mo- 
ney-changer, whilst  Tamar  stood  calmly  watch- 
ing him;  but  the  serving  man  finding  the  weight 
too  great  for  her,  he  exchanged  much  of  the  gold 
for  Bank  of  England  notes,  which  he  took  out  of 
the  same  trunk,  and  then  delivering  the  sum  into 
Tamar's  hands;  "  There  young  woman,  go,"  he 
said,  "  and  never  again  disturb  my  master  with 
your  presence." 

Whilst  this  was  going  on,  Salmon  had  kept  his 
eyes  fixed  on  Tamar,  and  once  or  twice  had  gas- 
ped as  if  for  breath;  at  length  he  said,  "  And  you 
are  Dymock's  daughter,  damsel,  but  you  are  not 
like  your  father's  people, — are  they  not  Naza- 
renes;  tell  me  what  was  she  who  bore  you  ?  " 

"  Beshrew  you,"  exclaimed  Jacob,  "  what  is 
all  this  to  you?"  and  roughly  seizing  Tamar  by 
the  arm,  he  drew  her  out  of  the  room,  saying 
"  3^ou  have  all  you  want,  go  down  to  your  father, 
and  let  us  see  you  no  more." 

The  young  girl  almost  doubted  as  she  de- 
scended the  stairs,  but  that  still  she  was  over- 


A  TALE  OF  OTIIEU  TIMKS.  99 

reached,  and  if  so,  that  Dymock  woukl  not  per- 
haps find  it  out  till  it  might  be  too  late  ;  she 
therefore,  hearing  Jacob  behind  her,  ran  with  all 
her  might,  and  coming  to  the  place  where  Dy- 
mock stood,  slie  called  to  him  to  follow  her,  and 
ran  directly  to  Shanty's  shed  ;  Dymock  proceed- 
ed after  her  a  few  yards  behind,  and  Jacob  still 
farther  in  the  rear,  crying,  "Laird,  stop!  stop! 
Mr.  Dymock !  give  us  your  release,  here  is  a 
paper  for  you  to  sign  !" 

Fortunately,  Tamar  found  Shanty  alone  in 
his  shed,  and  taking  him  into  his  inner  room, 
she  caused  him  to  count  and  examine  the  money, 
and  thus  was  he  occupied  when  Dymock  and 
Jacob  came  in.  Tamar  went  back  to  the  outer 
room  of  the  shed ;  but  Shanty  remained  within, 
and  when  he  found  that  all  was  right,  Mr.  Dy- 
mock gave  his  release.  Jacob  returned  to  the 
Tower,  and  old  Shanty  trotted  off  to  Hexham, 
to  put  the  money  in  a  place  of  security ;  nor 
did  he  fail  in  his  object,  so  that  before  he  slept, 
the  Laird  had  the  satisfaction  to  think  that  this 
dirty  work  was  all  completed,  and  that  without 
his  having  in  the  least  soiled  his  own  hands  in 
the  process.  As  to  the  mystery  of  Tamar's 
having  been  enabled  to  effect  what  he  could  not 
do,  he  soon  settled  that  matter  in  his  own  mind, 
for,   thought  he,   "  if  I,  the  Laird  of  Dymock, 


100  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

could  never  refuse  a  favor  asked  me  by  this  Maid 
of  Judah,  how  could  inferior  minds  be  expected 
to  withstand  her  influence  ?" — the  poor  Laird 
not  considering  that  the  very  inferiority  and 
coarseness  of  such  minds  as  he  attributed  to 
Salmon  and  Jacob,  would  have  prevented  them 
from  feeling  that  influence,  which  he  had  found 
so  powerful.  But  they  had  felt  something,  which 
certainly  belonged  to  Tamar,  and  had  yielded  to 
that  something ;  nor  could  Tamar  herself,  when 
she  reflected  upon  that  scene  in  the  Tower,  at 
all  comprehend  how  she  had  excited  such  emo- 
tions as  she  witnessed  there ;  neither  could 
Shanty  nor  Mrs.  Margaret  help  her  out. 

Again,  for  another  month,  all  went  on  in  its 
usual  routine ;  all  was  quiet  at  Dymock's  Tower, 
and  darning,  writing,  and  hammering,  continued 
to  be  the  order  of  the  day  with  Mrs.  Margaret, 
the  Laird,  and  t^hanty,  whilst  Tamar  was  all 
gay  and  happy  in  the  fulfilment  of  many  active 
duties,  rising  with  the  lark,  and  brushing  the 
dew  from  the  frequent  herbs  which  encompassed 
her  dwelling.  It  was  all  summer  with  her  then, 
nor  did  she  spoil  the  present  by  anticipation  of 
the  severities  of  a  wintery  day,  for  the  work  of 
grace  was  going  on  with  her,  and  though  her 
natural  temper  was  lofty  and  violent,  as  appeared 
by  her  manner   to  Jacob  on  the  occasion  lately 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  101 

described,  yet  there  was  a  higher  principle  im- 
parted, which  rendered  these  outbreakings  every 
day  more  rare. 

We  have  said  before,  that  Mrs.  Margaret  had 
a  favorite  cow,  named  by  her  mistress,  Brindle, 
from  the  colors  of  her  coat.  Tamar  had  learned 
to  milk  Brindle,  and  this  was  always  her  lirst 
work.  One  morning  in  the  beginning  of  Au- 
gust, it  happened,  or  rather,  was  so  ordered  by 
Providence,  that  the  Laird  was  constrained, 
through  the  extreme  activity  of  his  imagination, 
which  had  prevented  him  from  sleeping  after 
midnight,  to  arise  and  go  down  to  his  study,  in 
order  to  put  these  valuable  suggestions  on  paper. 
It  was,  however,  still  so  dark  when  he  descended 
into  his  study,  that  he  was  compelled  to  sit  down 
awhile  in  his  great  chair,  to  await  the  break  of 
day  ;  and  there  that  happened  to  him,  which 
might  as  well  have  happened  in  bed — that  is,  he 
fell  asleep,  and  slept  soundly  for  some  hours. 
All  this,  however,  had  not  been  done  so  quietly, 
but  that  he  had  awakened  his  sister  and  Tamar, 
who  slept  in  the  adjoining  room ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  was,  that  Tamar  got  up  and 
dressed  herself,  and  having  ascertained  the 
situation  of  the  Laird,  and  informed  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet that  all  was  well  in  that  quarter,  she  de- 
scended again  into  the  kitchen,  and  proceeded  to 
9* 


102  SHANTY  THE   BLACKSMITH  ; 

open  the  house  door.  The  shades  of  night  were 
as  yet  not  dispersed,  although  the  morning  faintly- 
dawned  on  the  horizon  ;  but  the  air  was  soft, 
fragrant,  and  elastic,  and  as  it  filled  the  chest  of 
Tamar,  it  seemed  to  inspire  her  with  that  sort 
of  feeling,  which  makes  young  things  whirl,  and 
prance,  and  run,  and  leap,  and  perform  all  those 
antics  which  seem  to  speak  of  naught  but  folly 
to  all  the  sober  and  discreet  elders,  who  have 
forgotten  that  they  were  ever  young. 

Almost  intoxicated  with  this  feeling  inspired 
by  the  morning  air,  Tamar  bounded  from  the 
step  of  the  door,  and  ran  a  considerable  way, 
first  along  the  bottom  of  the  glen,  and  then  in  a 
parallel  line  on  the  green  side  thereof;  suddenly 
coming  to  a  stand,  she  looked  for  Brindle,  and 
could  not  at  first  discern  her ;  a  minute  afterwards, 
however,  she  saw  her  at  the  higher  end  of  the 
glen,  just  where  it  opened  on  the  moor,  and 
where  it  had  hitherto  been  protected  from  the 
inroads  of  the  sheep,  or  other  creatures  feeding 
on  the  common,  by  a  rail  and  gate.  This  rail 
and  gate  had  wanted  a  little  repair  for  several 
weeks,  the  liaird  having  promised  to  give  it  that 
repair ;  and  he  was  well  able  so  to  have  done, 
having  at  one  time  of  his  life  worked  several 
months  with  the  village  carpenter.  But  the  good 
man  had  not  fulfilled  his  promise,  and  it  had  only 


A  TALK  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  103 

been  the  evening  before  that  Tamar  had  tied  up 
the  gate  with  what  came  nearest  to  hand,  namely, 
certain  tendrils  of  a  creeper  which  hung  there- 
abouts from  the  rock  that  formed  the  chasm  by 
which  the  valley  was  approached  in  that  direc- 
tion. These  tendrils  she  had  twisted  together 
so  as  to  form  a  band,  never  supposing  that 
Brindle,  though  a  young  and  female  creature, 
could  possibly  be  sufficiently  capricious  to  leave 
her  usual  fragrant  pasturage,  in  order  to  pull  and 
nibble  this  withering  band.  But,  however,  so  it 
was,  as  Tamar  asserted,  for  there  when  she 
came  up  to  the  place,  the  band  was  broken,  the 
gate  forced  open,  and  Brindle  walking  quietly 
forward  through  the  narrow  gully  towards  the 
moor. 

Tamar  being  come  to  the  gate,  stopped  there, 
and  called  Brindle,  who  knew  Tamar  as  well  as 
she  knew  her  own  calf.  But  the  animal  had 
snuffed  the  air  of  liberty  which  came  pouring 
down  the  little  pass,  from  the  open  moor,  and 
she  walked  deliberately  on  with  that  air  which 
seemed  to  say — "  I  hear  your  voice,  but  I  am 
not  coming." 

Tamar  was  provoked ;  had  it  been  a  human 
creature  who  was  thus  acting  she  might  perhaps 
have  recollected  that  it  is  not  good  to  give  way 
to  anger;  as  it  was,  she  made  no  such  reflection, 


104  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

but  exclaiming  in  strong  terms  against  the  crea- 
ture, she  began  to  run,  knowing  that  if  Brindle 
once  got  on  the  moor  it  would  probably  cost  her 
many  a  weary  step  before  she  could  get  her  back 
again.  In  a  measure,  however,  as  she  quickened 
her  pace,  so  did  Brindle,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  truant  animal  had  reached  the  open  moor, 
and  began  to  career  away  in  high  style,  as  if  re- 
joicing in  the  trouble  she  was  giving. 

But  even  on  the  open  moor  it  was  yet  very 
dusk  ;  the  dawn  was  hardly  visible  on  the  sum- 
mits of  the  distant  hills,  and  where  there  were 
woods  or  valleys  the  blackness  was  unbroken. 

Tamar  stood  almost  in  despair,  when  she  found 
that  the  animal  had  reached  the  open  ground,  but 
whilst  watching  how  she  could  get  round  her,  so 
as  to  turn  her  back,  the  creature  rather  slackened 
her  pace,  and  began  to  browze  the  short  grass 
among  the  heather.  Tamar  now  slowly  advancing 
was  taking  a  compass  to  come  towards  her  head, 
when  she,  perceiving  her,  turned  directly  round, 
and  trotted  on  straight  forward  to  the  knoll,  which 
was  at  most  not  half  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
dingle  ;  Tamar  followed  her,  but  could  not  reach 
her  till  she  liad  pushed  her  way  in  among  the 
trees  and  bushes,  and  when  Tamar  reached  the 
place,  she  found  her  quietly  feeding  in  the  green 
area,  surrounded  by  the  ruins.     The  light  was 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  105 

Still  very  imperfect,  and  Tamar  was  standing 
half  hid  by  the  bushes  and  huge  blocks  of  granite, 
doubting  whether  she  should  not  leave  the  cow 
there  whilst  she  ran  back  to  call  the  Laird  to  as- 
sist her,  when  suddenly  she  was  startled  by  the 
sound  of  voices.  She  drew  closer  behind  the 
block,  and  remained  perfectly  still,  and  ceased 
to  think  of  the  cow,  so  great  was  her  amazement 
to  find  persons  in  a  place,  generally  deserted  by 
the  country  people,  under  the  impression  that 
things  were  there  which  should  not  be  spoken 
of.  She  then  also  remembered  her  adventure 
with  Sappho,  and  what  Mrs.  Margaret  had  told 
her  of  the  concealed  passage  ;  and  now  recol- 
lecting that  secret  passage,  she  was  aware  that 
she  stood  not  very  far  from  the  mysterious  door- 
way. 

All  these  thoughts  crowded  to  her  mind,  but 
perfect  quiet  was  needful  at  the  moment.  As  the 
disk  of  the  sun  approached  the  horizon,  the  light 
was  rapidly  increasing  ;  the  dawn  in  those  higher 
latitudes  is,  however,  long,  but  those  who  knew 
the  signs  of  the  morning  were  aware  that  it  would 
soon  terminate,  and  that  they  whose  deeds  feared 
the  light  had  no  time  to  lose. 

Tamar  accordingly  heard  low  voices,  speaking, 
as  it  were,  in  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and  then  a 
yoi4?e  of  one  without  the  cavern — of  one  as  in  the 


106  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH; 

act  of  departing,  saying  distinctly,  "  twelve  then, 
at  midnight!"  The  answer  from  within  did  not 
reach  Tamar's  ears,  at  least,  she  heard  only  an 
indistinct  murmur,  but  the  voice  without  again 
came  clear  to  her,  and  the  words  were  to  this  ef- 
fect, "I  will  not  fail;  I  will  take  care  that  he 
shall  be  in  no  condition  to  return;"  the  answer 
was  again  lost  to  Tamar,  and  probably  some 
question,  but  the  reply  to  this  question  was  clear: 
"  It  is  his  day  to  go, — the  garrison  can't  live  with- 
out provision, — if  he  don't  go  to-day,  we  must 
skulk  another  twenty-four  hours, — we  must  not 
venture  with  him,  there  will  be  murder!"  then  fol- 
lowed several  sentences  in  such  broad  slang,  as 
Tamar  could  not  comprehend,  though  she  thought 
she  understood  the  tendencyof  these  words,  which 
were  mixed  with  oaths  and  terms  so  brutal,  that 
her  blood  ran  cold  in  thinking  of  them  ;  "  Caught 
in  his  own  snare — he  will  sink  in  his  own  dyke — 
we  have  him  now,  pelf  and  all."  After  this,  Ta- 
mar heard  parting  steps,  and  various  low  rumbling 
noises,  as  if  proceeding  from  under  ground ;  then 
all  was  still,  and  no  farther  sound  was  heard  by 
her,  but  the  rustling  of  leaves,  the  chirping  of  birds, 
and  the  cropping  of  the  herb  by  the  incisors  of 
Brindle.  In  the  mean  time  the  morning  broke, 
the  light  of  day  was  restored,  and  Tamar,  creeping 
gently  from  her  hiding-place,  left  Brindle,  whilst 
she  ran  back  to  the  cottaoe. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  107 

She  had  not  gone  far,  before  she  met  the  laborer 
who  was  accustomed  to  assist  her  in  the  care  of 
the  garden.  She  told  him  that  the  cow  had  stray- 
ed to  the  knoll,  and  that  she  had  seen  her  enter 
among  the  trees ;  and  he  undertook,  with  his  dog, 
to  drive  her  back  to  the  glen,  though,  he  said,  he 
would,  on  no  account,  go  up  on  the  knoll,  but  his 
dog  would  drive  her  down,  and  he  would  see  her 
home. 

"And  why  not  go  on  to  the  knoll?"  said  Ta- 
mar.  The  man  replied,  that  the  place  was 
known  to  be  uncanny,  and  that  not  only  strange 
noises,  but  strange  sights  had  been  seen  there. 

"Lately?"  asked  Tamar,  "have  they  been 
seen  and  heard  lately?" 

The  poor  man  could  not  assert  that  they  had, 
and  Tamar  was  not  going  to  tell  him  what  she 
had  seen  and  heard.  No !  this  mystery  was  to 
be  left  for  the  consideration  of  Dymock  and 
Shanty,  and  she  was  anxious  to  know  if  their 
thoughts  agreed  with  hers. 

AVhen  she  arrived  at  the  cottage,  and  the 
laborer  had  brought  back  Brindle,  and  fastened 
the  gate,  and  Tamar  had  milked  her  cow,  and 
done  her  usual  services,  she  went  to  Dymock  who 
was  just  awake,  and  brought  him  out  to  breakfast 
with  Mrs.  Margaret,  "You  shall  not  say  any 
thing  about  posterity,  and  the  benefits  which  you 


108  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

are  doing  to  them  by  recording  your  thought?, 
this  morning,  sir,"  she  said,  "  but  you  shall  hear 
what  I  have  to  tell  you,  and  I  will  not  tell  you, 
but  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Margaret."  When 
Dymock  heavd  what  Tamar  had  to  say,  he  was 
at  first  quite  amazed,  for  it  seems,  that  if  he 
had  ever  heard  of  the  secret  passage,  he  had  for- 
gotten it,  and  Mrs.  Margaret  had  had  her  reasons, 
for  not  stirring  up  his  recollections  ;  but  when  he 
was  made  acquainted  with  this  fact,  and  had  put 
together  all  that  Tamar  had  related,  he  made 
the  same  reflections  which  she  had  done,  and 
said  that  he  had  no  doubt,  but  that  these  ruins 
had  been  the  rendezvous  of  vagrants  for  years, 
and  that  there  was  now  a  plan  to  rob  Mr.  Sal- 
mon through  the  means  of  the  secret  passage. 
He  went  further,  for  he  had nolack of  imagination, 
and  proceeded  to  conjecture,  that  it  was  through 
the  mancBuvring  of  these  very  vagrants,  that  the 
old  curmudgeon  had  been  brought  to  Dymoek^s 
Tower,  and  following  the  connexion,  he  began  to 
put  together  the  appearance  of  the  young  black- 
smith, the  gipsy  who  had  left  Tamar  at  Shanty's, 
her  second  appearance  and  rapid  disappearance, 
the  coming  of  Mr.  Salmon,  his  supposed  riches, 
his  strange  whim  of  shutting  himself  up,  and 
every  other  extraordinary  circumstance,  in  a 
jumble   even  more   inexplicable   and  confusing, 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  109 

than  any  of  his  previous  speculations  upon  these 
events, — and  when  he  had  so  done  he  put  on  his 
hat,  and  declared  that  he  must  go  forthwith  to 
Shanty. 

*♦  To  see,"  said  Tamar,  "  what  he  can  hammer 
out  of  it  all,  but  something  must  and  ought  to 
be  done  to  put  Mr.  Salmon  on  his  guard,  for 
otherwise,  assuredly  he  will  be  robbed  this  night." 

"And  perhaps  murdered,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Margaret,  "  but  go,  brother,  be  quick,  and  let  us 
have  Shanty's  advice." 

"And  I,"  said  Tamar,  after  the  Laird  was  de- 
parted, "will  go  to  the  Tower,  and  if  possible 
get  admittance.  I  will  stop  the  going  off  of  Ja- 
cob." 

Mrs.  Margaret  expostulated  with  her,  but  all 
her  pleadings  came  to  this, — that  she  should  send 
a  neighbor  to  watch  for  Tamar  on  the  side  of  the 
moat,  the  young  girl  having  assured  her  kind  pro- 
tectress, that  she  had  nothing  to  fear  for  her,  and 
that  as  the  Laird  was  proverbially  a  procrastinator, 
he  might  let  half  the  day  pass,  before  he  had  set- 
tled what  was  to  be  done. 

Poor  Mrs.  Margaret  was  all  tremor  and  agita- 
tion ;  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart,  she  did  not  like 
to  be  left  in  the  cottage,  so  near  a  gang  of  thieves 
as  she  felt  herself  to  be  ;  she  was  not,  however,  a 
selfish  character,  and  after  some  tears,  she  kissed 
10 


110  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH; 

Tamar  and  bade  her  go,  watching  her  the  whole 
way  through  the  glen,  as  if  she  were  parting  with 
her  for  years. 

The  light  step  of  the  young  girl,  soon  b/ought 
her  to  the  edge  of  the  moat,  and  she  arrived,  as  it 
was  ordered  by  Providence,  at  a  very  convenient 
time,  for  she  met  Rebecca  on  the  moor,  the  old 
woman  having  just  parted  from  Jacob,  whose 
figure  was  still  to  be  seen  jogging  along  the 
heath.  The  first  words  of  Tamar  were  to  entreat 
Rebecca  to  call  Jacob  back,  and  when  she  found 
that  she  was  speaking  to  one  who  chose  to  lend  a 
deaf  ear,  she  raised  her  own  voice,  but  with  equal 
ill  success;  turning  then  again  to  Rebecca,  she 
saw  that  she  was  hastening  to  the  bridge,  on 
which  she  followed  her,  and  was  standing  with 
her  under  the  Tower,  before  the  old  woman  could 
recollect  herself. 

The  creature  looked  yellow  with  spite,  as  she 
addressed  the  young  maiden  with  many  bitter  ex- 
pressions, asking  her  what  she  did  there,  and  bid- 
ding her  to  be  gone. 

"I  am  come,"  replied  Tamar,  "to  see  your 
master,  and  I  will  see  him." 

"  It  is  what  you  never  shall  again,"  replied  the 
dame;  "he  has  never  been  himself  since  he  last 
saw  you." 

"How  is  that?"  said  Tamar;    "What  did  I 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  Ill 

do,  but  press  him  to  act  as  an  honorable  man, 
but  of  this  I  am  resolved,"  she  added,  "that  I 
will  now  see  him  again,"  and  as  she  spoke,  she 
proceeded  through  the  postern  into  the  courts, 
still  passing  on  towards  the  principal  door  of  the 
Tower,  Rebecca  following  her,  and  pouring  upon 
her  no  measured  abuse.  Tamar,  however,  re- 
marked drat  the  old  woman  lowered  her  voice 
as  they  advanced  Clearer  the  house,  on  which  she 
raised  her  own  tones,  and  said,  "  I  must,  and  will 
see  Mr.  Salmon,  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death  I 
come  upon ; — ^life  and  death  I  repeat,  and  if  you 
or  your  master,  liave  any  thing  on  your  minds  or 
consciences,  you  will  do  well  to  hear  what  1  have 
to  tell  you ;  a  few  hours  hence  and  it  will  he  too 
late." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Rebecca,  looking  at  once 
angry  and  terrified,  "come  with  me,  and  I  will 
hear  you." 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Tamar,  speaking  loud,  '*  I 
will  see  yo«r  master,  my  errand  is  to  him,"  and 
at  the  same  instant,  the  quick  eye  of  the  young 
girl,  observed  the  face  of  Salmon  peering  through 
a  loop-hole,  fitted  with  a  casement,  which  gave 
light  to  a  closet  near  the  entrance.  Encouraged 
by  this  she  spoke  again,  and  still  louder  than  be- 
fore, saving,  "  See  him  1  will,  and  from  me 
alone,  shall  he  hear  the  news  I  am  come  to  tell." 


112  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

'J'he  next  minute  she  heard  the  casement  open, 
and  saw  the  head  of  the  old  man  obtruded  from 
llience,  and  she  heard  a  querulous,  broken  voice, 
asking  what  was  the  matter  '  Tamar  stepped 
back  a  few  paces,  in  order  that  she  might  have  a 
clearer  view  of  the  speaker,  and  then  looking  up, 
she  said,  *'  I  am  come,  Mr.  Salmon,  as  a  friend, 
and  only  as  a  friend,  to  warn  you  of  a  danger 
which  threatens  you, — hear  me,  and  you  may  be 
saved, — but  if  you  lefuse  to  hear  me,  I  tell  you, 
that  you  may  be  a  ghastly  livid  corpse  before  the 
morning." 

"  Rebecca,  Rebecca !  "  cried  the  old  man, 
*'  Rebecca,  I  say,  speak  to  her,"  and  his  voice 
faltered,  the  accents  becoming  j)uling. 

"  Hear  her  not,"  said  the  dame,  "  slie  is  a  de- 
ceiver, she  is  come  to  get  money  out  of  you." 

*'  And  heaven  knows,"  cried  Mr.  Salmon, 
*•  that  she  is  then  coming  to  gather  fruit  from  a 
barren  tree.  Money,  indeed  !  and  where  am  I 
to  find  money,  even  for  her, — though  she  come 
in  such  a  guise,  as  would  Vv'ring  the  last  drop  of 
the  heart's  blood  ?" 

'*  Tush  !"  said  Rebecca,  "  you  are  rambling 
and  dreaming  again  ;"  but  the  old  man  heard  her 
not,  he  had  left  the  lattice,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
he  appeared  within  the  passage.  During  this 
interval,  Rebecca  had  not  been  quiet,  for  she  had 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  113 

seized  (he  arm  ofTamaranc]  iUe  young  girl  liad 
shaken  iier  off  wilji  some  diiTiculty,  and  not 
vviilioLit  saying,  "  Your  luiwilliiigness  to  permit 
me  to  speak  to  your  master,  old  woman,  goes 
against  you,  but  it  shall  not  avail  you,  speak  to 
him  I  will,"  and  the  contest  between  Tamar  and 
the  old  woman  was  still  proceeding,  when  Sal- 
mon appeared  in  the  passage. 

Tamar  instantly  sprang  to  meet  him,  and  see- 
ing that  his  step  was  feeble  and  tottering,  she 
supported  him  to  a  chair  in  a  small  parlor  which 
opened  into  the  passage,  and  there,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  the  floor  between  him  and  Rebecca, 
she  told  her  errand  ;  nor  was  she  interrupted 
until  she  had  told  all,  the  old  man  looking  as  if 
her  recital  had  turned  him  into  stone,  and  the 
old  woman  expressing  a  degree  of  terror,  which 
at  least  cleared  her  in  Tamar's  mind,  of  the  guilt 
of  being  connected  with  the  thieves  of  the  secret 
passage. 

As  soon  as  the  young  girl  had  finished,  the  old 
miser  broke  out  in  the  most  bitter  and  helpless 
lamentations.  "  My  jewels  ! — my  silver  ! — my 
moneys!"  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh  my  moneys! — my 
moneys  !  Tell  me,  tell  me  damsel,  what  can  I  do? 
Call  Jacob.  Where  is  .Jacob  ?  Oh,  my  moneys  ! 
— my  jev/els  !" 
19* 


114  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ', 

*'  Peace,  good  sir!  peace  !"  said  Tamar,  "  we 
will  befriend  you,  we  will  assist  you,  we  will 
protect  you  ;  the  Laird  is  an  honorable  man,  he 
will  protect  you,  I  have  known  him  long,  long, 
— since  I  was  a  baby  ;  and  he  would  perish 
before  he  would  wrong  any  one,  or  see  another 
wronged." 

"The   Laird,    did  you  say?"   asked   Salmon, 
*'your  father;  he  is  your  father,  damsel,  is  he  not?" 
*'I  have  no  other,"  replied  Tamar,  "I  never 
knew  another.      Why  do  you  ask  me?" 

"Because,"  said  Rebecca,  "he  is  doting,  and 
thinks  more  of  Other  people's  concerns  than  his 
own." 

-  "  Has  he  ever  lost  a  daughter  ?"  asked  Tamar. 
"He  lost  a  wife  in  her  youth,"  answered  the 
old  woman,  "  and  he  was  almost  in  his  dotage 
when  he  married  her,  and  he  fancies  because  you 
have  black  hair,  that  you  resemble  her  ;  but  there 
is  no  more  likeness  between  you  two,  than  there 
is  between  a  hooded  crow  and  a  raven." 

"There  is  more  though,  there  is  much  more 
though,"  muttered  the  old  man,  "  and  Jacob  saw 
it  too,  and  owned  that  he  did." 

"  The  fool !"  repeated  Rebecca,  "  the  fool  !  did 
I  not  tell  him  that  he  was  feeding  your  poor 
mind  with  follies  ;  tell  me,  how  should  tliis  poor 
girl  be  like  your  wife  ?" 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  115 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  and  answered, 
"  Because,  he  that  made  them  both,  fashioned 
them  to  be  so  ;  and  Rebecca,  I  have  been  think- 
ing that  had  my  daughter  lived,  had  Jessica  lived 
till  now,  she  wovdd  have  been  just  such  a  one." 
*«  Preserve  you  in  your  senses,  master,"  ex- 
claimed Rebecca,  "  such  as  they  are,  they  are 
better  than  none;  but  had  your  daughter  lived, 
she  would  have  been  as  unlike  tliis  damsel  as  you 
ever  were  to  your  bright  browed  wife.  Why  you 
are  short  and  shrivelled,  so  was  your  daughter  ; 
your  features  are  sharp,  and  so  were  hers ;  she 
was  ever  a  poor  pining  thing*  and  when  I  laid 
her  in  her  grave  beside  her  mother,  it  was  a 
corpse  (o  frighten  one  ;  it  was  well  for  you,  as  1 
ever  told  you,  that  she  died  so  soon." 

"  Yet  had  she  lived,  I  might  have  had  a  thing 
to  love,"  replied  the  old  man  ;  and  then,  looking 
at  Tamar,  he  added,  "  They  tell  me  you  are  the 
Laird's  daughter,  is  it  so,  fair  maid  ?" 

Rebecca  again  interrupted  him.  "  What  folly 
is  this  ;"  she  said,  raising  her  voice  almost  to  a 
shriek,  "  how  know  you  but  that,  whilst  you  are 
questioning  the  damsel,  your  chests  and  coffers 
are  in  the  hands  of  robbers  ;  your  money,  I  tell 
you,  is  in  danger:  your  gold,  your  oft-told  gold. 
You  were  not  wont  to  be  so  careless  of  your 
gold  ;  up  and  look  to  it.     You  will  be  reduced 


116  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH; 

to  beg  your  bread  from  those  you  Imte  ;  arise,  be 
strong.  Where  are  your  keys?  Give  them  to 
the  damsel ;  she  is  young  and  active  ;  slie  will 
swifdy  remove  the  treasure  out  of  the  way.  Can 
you  not  trust  her?  See  you  not  the  fair  guise  in 
wdiich  she  comes?  Can  you  suspect  a  creature 
who  looks  like  your  wife,  like  Rachel?  Is  not 
her  tale  w^ell  framed  ;  and  are  you,  or  are  you 
not  deceived  by  her  fiiir  seemings.^  She  is  tlie 
daughter  of  a  beggar,  and  she  knows  herself  to 
be  such ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  slie  has 
her  ends  to  answer  by  giving  this  alarm." 

The  old  man  had  arisen  ;  he  looked  hither  and 
thither  ;  he  felt  for  his  keys,  which  were  hanging 
at  his  girdle  ;  and  then,  fallinij  back  into  his 
chair,  he  uttered  one  deep  groan  and  became  in- 
sensible, his  whole  complexion  turning  to  a  livid 
paleness. 

"  lie  is  dying  !"  exclaimed  Tamar,  holding 
him  up  in  his  chair,  from  which  he  would  have 
otherwise  fallen.  "  He  is  dying,  tlie  poor  old 
man  is  dying;  bring  water,  anything." 

"  He  has  often  been  in  this  way  since  became 
here,  replied  Rebecca.  "We  hove  thought  t'liat 
he  has  had  a  stroke  ;  he  is  not  tlie  man  he  was 
a  few  months  since  ;  and  had  I  known  how  it 
would  be,  it  is  strange  but  1  would  have  found 
means  to  hinder  his  comin"^." 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  117 

"  If  he  were  ever  so  before,"  said  Tamar, 
*'  why  did  you  work  him  up,  and  talk  to  him,  as 
you  did,  about  his  daughter ;  but  fetch  some 
water,"  she  added. 

"I  shall  not  leave  him  with  you,"  answered 
Rebecca 

"  Nor  shall  I  abandon  him  to  your  tender 
mercies,"  replied  Tamar,  "  whilst  he  is  in  this 
condition.  I  am  not  his  daughter,  it  is  true, — 
but  he  is  a  feeble  old  man,  and  I  will  befriend 
him  if  I  can." 

The  old  gentleman  at  this  moment  fell  forward 
with  such  weight,  that  Tamar  ran  from  behind 
him,  and  dropping  down  on  her  knees,  received 
his  head  on  her  shoulder,  then,  putting  one  arm 
round  him,  she  was  glad  to  hear  a  long,  deep 
sigh,  the  prelude  of  his  returning  to  partial  con- 
sciousness ;  and  as  he  opened  his  eyes,  he  said, 
— "  Ah,  Rachel,  is  it  you?  i  ou  have  beeti 
gone  a  long  time." 

Tamar  was  at  that  moment  alone  with  the  old 
man.  Rebecca  had  heard  voices  at  a  distance, 
and  she  had  run  to  pull  up  the  bridge. 

"  I  am  not  your  Rachel,  venerable  Sir,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  the  adopted  daughter  of  the  Laird  of 
Dymock,"  and  she  gently  laid  his  head  back. 

"  Then  why  do  you  come  to  me  like  her  ?" 
said  the  old  man.     "  That  is  wrong,  it  is  very 


J  18  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

cruel ;  it  is  tormenting  me  before  my  time.  I 
have  not  hurt  you,  and  I  will  give  you  more 
gold  if  you  will  not  do  this  again." 

"  You  rave,  Sir,"  said  Tamar.  "  Who  do  you 
take  me  for?"' 

*'A  dream,"  he  answered.  "I  have  been 
dreaming  again;"  and  he  raised  himself,  shook 
his  head,  rubbed  his  hands  across  his  eyes,  and 
looked  as  usual ;  but  before  he  could  add  another 
word,   Dymock  and  Shanty  entered  the  parlor. 

Rebecca  had  been  too  late  in  preventing  their 
crossing  the  bridge,  and  they  with  some  difficulty 
made  the  old  gentleman  understand  that  if  he 
had  any  valuables,  they  must  ascertain  whether 
the  place  in  which  they  were  kept  was  any  way 
approachable  by  the  cavern.  They  also  told  him 
that  they  had  taken  means  to  have  the  exterior 
mouth  of  the  cavern  upon  the  knoll,  stopped  up, 
after  the  gang  were  in  it ;  that  they  had  provided 
a  considerable  force  for  this  purpose ;  and  that 
they  should  bring  men  within  the  Tower  to 
seize  the  depredators.  Dymock  then  requested 
Tamar  to  return  to  Mrs.  Margaret,  and  remain 
quietly  with  her  ;  and  when  she  was  gone,  the 
bridge  was  drawn  up,  and  she  went  back  to  the 
cottage. 

She  had  much  to  tell  Mrs.  Margaret,  and  long, 
very  long, — after  they  had  discussed  many  times 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  119 

the  singular  scene  between  Salmon,  Rebecca, 
and  Tamar,  and  spoken  of  what  might  be  the 
plans  of  Dymock  and  Shanty  for  securing  the 
Tower, — did  the  remainder  of  the  day  appear  to 
them.  Several  times  they  climbed  to  the  edge 
of  the  glen,  to  observe  if  aught  was  stirring;  but 
all  was  still  as  usual.  There  stood  the  old 
Tower  in  solemn,  silentunconscionsness  of  what 
might  soon  pass  within  it;  and  there  was  the 
knoll,  looking  as  green  and  fresh  as  it  was  ever 
wont  to  do. 

At  sun-set  Tamar  and  Mrs.  Margaret  again 
visited  this  post  of  observation,  and  again  after 
they  had  supped  at  eight  o'clock.  They  then 
returned  and  shut  their  doors  ;  they  made  up 
their  fires  ;  and  whilst  Tamar  plied  her  needle, 
Mrs.  Margaret  told  many  ancient  tales  and  dis- 
mal predictions  of  secret  murders,  corpse-candles, 
and  visions  of  second  sight,  after  which,  as  mid- 
night approached,  they  became  more  restless  and 
anxious  respecting  their  friends,  wondering  what 
they  would  do,  and  expressing  their  hopes,  or 
their  fears,  in  dark  sentences,  such  as  these : — 
<'  We  trust  no  blood  may  be  shed  ! — if  there 
should  be  blood! — if  Dymock  or  poor  Shanty 
should  be  hurt!"  Again,  they  turned  to  form 
many  conjectures,  and  put  many  things  together: 
— «'  Was  Mr-  Salmon  connected  with  the  gipsies 


120  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

who  had  brought  Tamar  to  the  moor? — ^^'as  it 
this  gang  that  proposed  robbing  him  ? — Was  the 
young  blacksmith  called  Ilarefoot  connected  with 
the  gipsy  ? — Had  he  persuaded  Salmon  to  bring 
his  treasure  there  in  order  that  he  might  pilfer 
them  ?  And  lastly,  wherefore  was  Mr.  Salmon 
so  affected  both  times  he  had  seen  Tamar?"  Here, 
indeed,  was  a  subject  for  conjecture,  which  lasted 
some  hours,  and  beguiled  the  sense  of  anxiety. 
At  length  the  morning  began  to  dawn  on  that 
long  night,  and  Tamar  went  out  to  milk  Brindle, 
whose  caprices  had,  in  fact,  the  day  before,  been 
the  first  mover  in  all  this  confusion.  Cows  must 
be  milked,  even  were  the  master  of  the  family 
dying ;  and  Tamar  wished  to  iiave  this  task  over, 
before  any  message  should  come  from  the 
Tower;  and  scarcely  had  she  returned  to  the 
cottage,  when  the  lad  who  administered  the  wind 
to  Shanty's  forge,  came  running  with  sach  haste 
that,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  he  had  no  more 
breath  left  for  speaking  than  a  broken  bellows." 

"For  the  love  of  Prince  Charles,"  lie  said, 
*'  can  you  give  us  any  provender,  Mrs.  Margaret? 
It  is  cold  work  watching  all  night,  with  neither 
food  nor  drink,  save  one  bottle  of  whiskey  among 
ten  of  us,  and  scarce  a  dry  crust." 

"  But  what  have  you  done?"  asked  Tamar. 

"We  have  nabbed  them,"   replied  the  boy. 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TI3IES.  121 

*' There  were  four  of  them,  besides  an  old  wo- 
man, who  was  taken  in  the  cave,  and  they  are  in 
the  Tower,  till  we  can  get  the  magistrates  here, 
and  proper  hands  to  see  them  off.  They  came 
like  rats  from  under  ground.  My  master  had 
made  out  where  to  expect  them,  in  one  of  the 
cellars,  behind  the  orreat  hoo;shead  which  used  to 
be  filled  at  the  birth  of  the  heir,  and  emptied  at 
his  coming  of  age.  So  we  were  ready  in  the 
cellar,  and  nabbed  three  of  them  there,  and  the 
other,  who  was  hindmost,  and  the  woman,  were 
taken  as  they  ran  out  the  other  way  ;  and  there 
they  are  in  the  stronghold,  that  is,  the  four  men, 
but  the  woman  is  up  above  ;  and  it  is  pitiful  to 
hear  how  she  howls  and  cries,  and  calls  for  the 
Laird ;  but  he  fell  asleep  as  soon  as  he  knew  all 
was  safe,  and  we  have  not  the  heart  to  disturb 
him." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Margaret,  "  I  am  most 
thankful  that  all  is  over  without  bloodshed,  and 
my  nephew  asleep.  No  wonder,  as  he  has  not 
slept  since  twelve  in  the  morning  of  yesterday." 

*'  Excepting  in  his  chair,"  said  Tamar. 

"But  the  provender,  mistress,"  said  the  young 
man. 

"  Here,"  replied  Tamar,  "  lift  this  pail  on  your 
head,  and  take  this  loaf,  and  I  will  follow  with 
what  else  I  can  find." 

n 


123  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

*'  Na)^  Tamar,"  said  Mrs.  Margaret,  "You 
would  not  go  where  there  is  such  a  number  of 
men  and  no  woman,  but  that  old  witch  Rebecca." 

*'  I  am  not  afraid  of  going  where  my  father  is," 
replied  Tamar;  '^but  I  must  see  that  woman.  I 
should  know  her  immediately.  I  am  convinced 
that  she  is  the  very  person  who  brought  me  to 
Shanty's  shed.  She  hinted  at  some  connexion 
with  me.  Oh,  horrible  !  may  it  not  be  possible 
that  I  may  have  near  relations  among  these  mise- 
rable men  who  are  shut  up  in  the  strong-hold  of 
the  Tower  ?" 

As  Tamar  said  these  words,  she  burst  into 
tears,  and  sunk  upon  the  bosom  of  Mrs.  Mar- 
garet, who,  kissing  her  tenderly,  said,  "  Child  of 
my  affections,  of  this  be  assured,  that  nothing 
shall  separate  you  from  me.  My  heart,  methinks, 
clings  more  and  more  to  you  ;  and  oh,  my  Ta- 
mar !  that  which  I  seem  most  to  fear  is,  that  you 
should  be  claimed  by  any  one  who  may  have  a 
right  to  take  you  from  me." 

This  was  a  sort  of  assurance  at  that  moment 
requisite  to  the  poor  girl ;  and  such,  indeed,  was 
the  interest  which  Mrs.  Margaret  felt  in  ascer- 
taining if  this  really  were  the  woman  who  had 
brought  Tamar  to  Shanty's,  that  she  put  on  her 
hood  and  cloak,  and  having  filled  a  basket  from 
the  larder,  she  locked  the  cottage  door,  and  went 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  123 

with  Tamar  to  the  Tower.  It  was  barely  light 
when  they  crossed  the  moat,  for  the  bridge  was 
not  drawn  ;  and  when  they  entered  the  inner 
court,  they  found  many  of  the  peasants  seated  in 
a  circle,  dipping  portions  of  the  loaf  in  Brindle's 
pail. 

*'  Welcome  !  welcome  !  to  your  own  place, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Dymock !"  said=^one  of  them, 
*'  and  here,"  he  added,  dipping  a  cup  into  the 
pail,  "  I  drink  to  the  restoration  of  the  rightful 
heir  and  the  good  old  family,  and  to  your  house- 
keeping, Mrs.  Margaret;  for  things  are  done 
now  in  another  style  to  what  they  were  in  your 
time." 

A  general  shout  seconded  this  sentiment,  and 
Mrs.  Margaret,  curtseying,  and  then  pluming 
herself,  answered,  "  I  thank  you,  my  friends, 
and  flatter  myself,  that  had  my  power  been  equal 
to  my  will,  no  hungry  person  should  ever  have 
departed  from  Dymock's  Tower." 

The  ladies  were  then  obliged  to  stand  and  hear 
the  wliole  history  of  the  night's  exploit, — told 
almost  in  as  many  ways  as  there  were  tongues 
to  tell  it ;  and  whilst  these  relations  v\^ere  going 
forward,  the  sun  had  fairly  risen  above  the  ho- 
rizon, and  was  gilding  the  jagged  battlements  of 
the  Tower. 

Shanty  was  not  with  the   party  in   the  court, 


124  SHANTY  THE  BLACKS^IITII  ; 

but  he  suddenly  appeared  in  the  door-way  of  the 
Tower.  He  seemed  in  haste  and  high  excitement, 
and  was  about  to  call  to  any  one  who  would  hear 
him  first,  when  his  eye  fell  on  Tamar  and  Mrs. 
Margaret.  "Oh,  there  you  are,"  he  said  ;  "I 
was  looking  for  one  of  swift  foot  to  bring  you 
here.  Come  up  this  moment ;  you  are  required 
to  be  present  at  the  confession  of  the  gipsy  wife, 
who  is  now  willing  to  tell  all,  on  condition  that 
we  give  her  her  liberty.  AVhether  this  can  be 
allowed  or  not,  we  doubt  ;  though  she  did  not 
make  herself  busy  with  the  rest,  but  was  caught 
as  she  tried  to  escape  by  the  knoll." 

"  Oh  !  spare  her,  if  possible,"  said  Tamar,  "or 
let  her  escape,  if  you  can  do  nothing  else  to  save 
her;  I  beseech  you  spare  her!"  Shanty  made 
no  reply,  but  led  the  way  to  an  upper  room  of 
the  Tower,  which  had  in  old  time,  when  there 
were  any  stores  to  keep,  (a  case  which  had  not 
occurred  for  some  years)  been  occupied  as  a 
stronghold  for  groceries,  and  other  articles  of  the 
same  description  ;  and  there,  besides  the  prisoner 
who  stood  sullenly  leaning  against  the  wall,  with 
her  arms  folded,  sat  Dymock  and  Salmon — the 
Laird  looking  all  importance,  his  lips  being  com- 
pressed and  his  arms  folded — and  old  Salmon, 
being  little  better  in  appearance  than  a  caput 
mortimm,     so  entirely   was    the   poor   creature 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  125 

overpowered  by  the  rapid  changes  in  the  scenes 
which  were  enacting  before  him. 

Shanty  had  met  Rebecca  running  down  the 
stairs  as  he  was  bringing  up  Mrs.  M^irgaret,  and 
he  had  seized  her  and  brought  her  in,  saying — 
"  Now  old  lady,  as  we  are  coming  to  a  clearance, 
it  might  be  just  as  well  to  burn  out  your  dross 
among  the  rest;  or  maybe,"  he  added,  "  you 
may  perhaps  answer  to  the  lumps  of  lime-stone 
in  the  furnace,  not  of  much  good  in  yourself,  but 
of  some  service  to  help  the  smelting  of  that  which 
is  better — so  come  along,  old  lady  ;  my  mind 
misgives  me,  that  you  have  had  more  to  do  in 
making  up  this  queer  affair  than  you  would  have 
it  supposed."  The  more  Rebecca  resisted,  the 
more  determined  was  Shanty ;  neither  did  he 
quit  his  hold  of  the  old  woman,  until  the  whole 
party  had  entered  the  room;  the  door  being  shut, 
and  his  back  set  against  it,  where  he  kept  his 
place,  like  a  bar  of  iron  in  a  stanchion. 

Chairs  had  been  set  for  Mrs.  Margaret  and 
Tamar,  and  when  they  were  seated,  Dymock 
informed  the  prisoner  that  she  might  speak.  Ta- 
mar had  instantly  recognized  her;  so  had  Shanty; 
and  both  were  violently  agitated,  especially  the 
former,  when  she  began  to  speak.  We  will  not 
give  her  story  exactly  in  her  own  words  ;  for  she 
used  many   terms,  whicli,  from  the  mixture  of 


126  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

gipsy  slang  ami  broad  Border  dialect,  would  not 
be  generally  understood  ;  but,  being  translated, 
her  narrative  stood  as  folio vvs  : — 

She  was;  it  seems,  of  gipsy  blood,  and  hadno 
fixed  habitation,  but  many  hiding  places,  one  of 
which  was  the  cavern  or  passage  connected 
with  Dymock's  Tower.  Another  of  her  haunts 
was  Norwood  Common,  which,  every  one  knows, 
is  near  London,  and  there  was  a  sort  of  head- 
quarters of  the  gang,  though,  as  was  their  cus- 
tom, they  seldom  committed  depredations  near 
their  quarters.  She  said,  that,  one  day  being 
on  the  common,  she  came  in  front  of  an  old, 
black  and  white  house,  (which  was  taken  down 
not  many  years  afterwards  ;)  in  the  front  thereof 
was  a  garden,  and  a  green  lawn  carefully  trimmed, 
and  in  that  garden  on  a  seat  sat  an  old  lady,  a 
tall  and  comely  dame,  she  said,  and  she  was  play- 
ing with  a  litttle  child,  who  might  have  been  a 
year-and-a-half  old.  The  gipsy,  it  seems,  had 
asked  charity  through  the  open  iron  railing  of  the 
garden  ;  and  the  lady  had  risen  and  approached 
the  railing,  bringing  the  child  with  her,  and  put- 
ting the  money  into  the  infant's  hand  to  pass  it 
through  the  railing.  The  vagrant  had  then  ob- 
served the  dress  and  ornaments  of  the  child,  that 
she  had  a  necklace  of  coral,  clasped  with  some 
sparkling   stone,    golden    clasps    in   her   shoes, 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  127 

much  rich  lace  about  lier  cap,  and  above  all, 
golden  bracelets  of  curious  workmanship  on  her 
wrists. 

"She  had  not,"  said  Rebecca;  "she  never 
wore  those  ornaments  excepting  on  festival 
days." 

The  vagrant  took  no  notice  of  this  remark  of 
Rebecca's  ;  but  Shanty  gave  the  old  servant  a 
piercing  look,  whilst  all  others  present,  with  the 
exception  of  Salmon,  felt  almost  fainting  with 
impatience  ;  but  Salmon's  mind  seemed  for  the 
moment  in  such  a  state  of  obtuseness,  as  disabled 
him  from  catcl^ing  hold  of  the  link  which  was 
leading  to  that  which  was  to  interest  him  as  much 
as,  or  even  more  than,  any  one  present.  The 
gipsy  went  on  to  say,  that  her  cupidity  was  so 
much  excited  by  these  ornaments,  that  she  fixed 
her  eye  immediately  on  the  family,  and  resolved, 
if  possible,  to  get  possession  of  the  child.  She 
first  inquired  respecting  the  family,  and  learned, 
that  the  house  was  occupied  by  a  widow  lady, 
who  had  with  her  an  only  daughter,  a  married 
woman  ;'that  the  child  she  had  seen  belonged  to 
that  daughter;  and  that  the  husband  was  abroad, 
and  was  a  Jew,  supposed  to  be  immensely  rich. 

"I  knew  it,"  said  Dymock,  turning  round  and 
snapping  his  fingers;  "I  hammered  it  out.  Mas- 
ter Shanty,  sooner  than  you  did  ;  I  knew  the 


128  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

physiognomy  of  a  daughter  of  Zion  at  the  very 
first  glance  ;  you,  too,  must  never  talk  again  of 
your  penetration,  Aunt  Margaret,"  and  the  good 
man  actually  danced  about  the  room  ;  but  Shanty 
on  one  side,  and  Aunt  Margaret  on  the  other, 
seized  him  by  an  arm,  and  forced  him  again  upon 
his  chair,  entreating  him  to  be  still  ;  whilst  Sal- 
mon roused  himself  in  his  seat,  shook  off,  or 
tried  to  shake  off  his  confusion,  and  fixed  his 
eyes  steadfastly  on  tlie  vagrant. 

The  woman  then  went  on  to  describe  the 
means  by  which  she  had  got  a  sort  of  footing  in 
this  house  ;  how  she  first  discovered  the  back- 
door, and  under  what  pretences  she  invited  the 
servants  to  enter  into  a  sort  of  concert  with  her 
for  their  mutual  emolument ;  they  bartering  hare- 
skins,  kitchen  grease,  cold  meat,  &c.,  for  lace, 
tapes,  thread,  ballads,  and  other  small  matters. 

"  The  thieves  !"  cried  Salmon  ;  but  no  one 
noticed  him. 

"  There  were  only  two  servants  in  the  house," 
said  the  gipsy  ;  "  there  miglit  be  others,  but  I 
saw  them  not,  and  one  of  those  now  stands 
here ;"  and  she  fixed  her  eagle  eye  on  Rebecca ; 
*'  the  other  is  Jacob." 

"Jacob  and  Rebecca!"  exclaimed  Salmon; 
"it  was  my  house,  then,  that  you  were  robbing, 
and  my  servants  whom  you  was  tampering  with." 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  129 

"  Go  on,"  said  Dyiiiock  to  the  vagrant,  whose 
story  then. proceeded  to  this  effect: — 

She  had  visited  the  offices  of  this  house  seve- 
ral times  ;  when,  coming  one  evening  hy  ap- 
pointment of  the  servants,  with  some  view  to 
bartering  the  master's  goods  with  her  own  wares, 
she  found  the  family  in  terrible  alarm,  she  had 
come,  as  she  said,  jnst  at  the  crisis  in  which  a 
soul  had  parted  ;  and  it  was  the  soul  of  that  same 
old  lady  who  had  been  playing  with  the  infant 
on  the  grass-plot. 

Rebecca    was    wailinor    and    orroaninsf    in    the 

o  o  o 

kitchen,  for  she  needed  help  to  streak  the  corpse, 
and  the  family  had  lived  so  close  and  solitary, 
that  she  knew  of  no  one  at  hand  to  whom  to  ap- 
ply, and  she  feared  that  the  dead  would  become 
stark  and  cold,  before  she  could  find  help  ;  Jacob 
was  not  within,  he  had  gone  to  London,  to  fetch 
a  Doctor  of  their  own  creed,  and  was  not  likely 
to  be  back  for  some  time. 

*'And  why  ?  said  I,"  continued  the  vagrant, 
*'  why,  said  I,  should  I  not  do  for  this  service  as 
well  as  another  ?  for  many  and  many  had  been 
the  corpse  which  I  had  streaked  ;  so  she  accept- 
ed my  offer,  and  took  me  up  to  the  cliamber  of 
death,  and  I  streaked  the  body,  and  a  noble 
corpse  it  was.  The  dame  had  been  a  comely 
one,  as  tall  as  that  lady,"  pointing  to  Dy mock's 
aunt,  **  and  not  unlike  her." 


130  SHAXTY  THE  BLACKS:,IITII  ; 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Margaret,  smiling,  "I 
understand  it  now;"  but  Dymock  bade  her  be 
silent,  and  the  vagrant  went  on. 

"So,"  said  she,  "when  I  had  streaked  the 
body,  I  said  to  Rebecca,  we  must  have  a  silver 
plate,  for  pewter  will  not  answer  the  purpose." 

"  '  What  for  V  said  she. 

"  '  To  till  with  salt,'  I  answered,  *  and  set  upon 
the  breast,' 

"  So  she  fetched  me  a  silver  plate  half  filled 
with  salt,  and  I  laid  it  on  the  corpse  ;  '  and  now,' 
I  said,  '  we  must  have  rue  and  marjoram,  run 
down  and  get  me  some  ;'  and  then  I  frightened 
her,  poor  fool  as  she  was,  by  telling  her  that  by 
the  limpness  of  the  hand  of  the  corpse,  I  augured 
another  death  very  soon  in  the  house." 

"  When  I  told  this  to  Rebecca,  the  creature 
was  so  frightened,  that  away  she  ran,  leaving  me 
in  the  room  with  the  body.  Swift  as  thought," 
continued  the  woman,  "  I  caught  the  silver  dish, 
and  was  running  down  stairs, — it  was  gloaming 
— when  I  saw  a  door  open  opposite  the  chamber 
of  death,  and  there,  in  the  glimmering,  I  saw  the 
child  of  the  family  asleep  in  a  little  crib.  She 
had  on  her  usual  dress,  with  the  ornaments  I 
spoke  of,  and  seemed  to  have  fallen  asleep  be- 
fore her  time,  as  she  was  not  undressed.  I 
caught  her  up,  asleep  as  she  was,  and  the  next 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TI3IES.  131 

moment  I  was  out  in  the  yard,  and  across  the 
court,  and  through  the  back-door,  and  away  over 
the  common,  and  to  where  I  knew  that  none 
would  follow  me,  but  they  of  my  people,  who 
would  help  my  flight." 

"And  the  child  with  you?"  said  Salmon,  "  did 
you  take  the  child  ?" 

"More  I  will  not  tell,"  added  the  woman; 
*'  no,  nor  more  shall  any  tortures  force  from  me, 
unless  you  bind  yourselves  not  to  prosecute  me, 
— unless  you  promise  me  my  liberty." 

"I  have  told  you,"  said  the  Laird,  "that  if 
you  tell  every  thing  you  shall  be  free — do  you 
question  my  truth  ?" 

'*No,  Dymock,"  said  the  vagrant;  "I  know 
you  to  be  a  man  of  truth,  and  in  that  dependence 
you  shall  hear  all!" 

"  I  stripped  the  child  of  her  gaudry,  I  wrapped 
her  in  rags,  and  I  slung  her  on  my  back;  but  I  did 
her  no  harm,  and  many  a  weary  mile  I  bore  her, 
till  I  came  to  the  moor ;  and  then,  because  she 
was  a  burden,  and  because  the  brand  on  her 
shoulder  would  assuredly  identify  her,  if  suspi- 
cion fell  on  me  for  having  stolen  her,  I  left  her  in 
the  old  blacksmith's  shed,  and  there  she  found  a 
better  father  than  you  would  have  made  her;  for 
what  are  you  but  a  wicked  Jew,  with  a  heart  as 
hard  as  the  gold  you  love." 


]  32  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSiMITH  ; 

The  fixed,  and  almost  stone-like  attitude  in 
which  the  old  man  stood  for  some  moments  after 
his  understanding  had  admitted  the  information 
given  by  the  vagrant,  so  drew  the  attention  of  all 
present,  that  there  was  not  a  sound  heard  in  the 
room,  every  one  apprehending  that  the  next  mo- 
ment they  should  see  him  drop  down  dead,  nor 
did  any  one  know  what  was  best  to  do  next;  but 
this  moment  of  terror  was  terminated  by  the  old 
man's  sinking  on  his  knees,  clasping  his  hands, 
and  lifting  his  eyes,  and  breaking  out  in  a  short 
but  solemn  act  of  thanksgiving,  and  then  turn- 
ing his  head  without  rising,  as  it  were  looking 
for  his  daughter,  she  sprang  toward  him,  and 
threw  her  arms  about  him,  whilst  he  still  knelt. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  scene  which 
followed  :  Dymock  began  to  caper  and  exult, 
Mrs.  Margaret  to  weep,  Rebecca  to  utter  impre- 
cations, and  Shanty  to  sing  and  whistle,  as  he 
was  wont  to  do  when  hammering  in  his  shed, 
and  the  vagrant  to  dare  the  old  Jewess  to  deny 
any  thing  which  she  had  said.  When  Dymock 
had  assisted  Tamar  to  lift  her  father  into  the 
chair,  and  when  tlie  old  man  had  wept  plentiful- 
ly, he  was  again  anxious  to  examine  the  case 
more  closely;  and  a  discussion  followed, in  which 
many  things  were  explained  and  cleared  up  on 
both  sides,  though  it  was    found  necessary  for 


A  TALE  OF   OTHER  TIMES.  133 

this  end  to  promise  Rebecca  that  she  should  be 
forgiven,  and  no  vengeance  taken  upon  her,  if 
she  should  confess  her  part  of  the  history.  This 
discussion  lasted  long,  and  the  substance  of  what 
was  then  opened  to  Tamar  and  her  paternal 
friends  was  this  : — Mr.  Salmon  was,  it  seems,  a 
Polish  Jew,  extremely  rich,  and  evidently  very 
parsimonious  ;  he  had  had  mercantile  concerns 
in  London,  and  had  there  married,  when  nearly 
fifty  years  of  age,  a  beautiful  young  Jewess, 
whose  mother  he  had  greatly  benefitted,  when  in 
the  most  deplorable  circumstances.  With  this 
lady  he  had  gone  abroad,  and  it  was  very  evident 
that  he  had  been  a  severe  and  jealous  husband. 
She  had  brought  him  a  daughter  soon  after  her 
marriage.  This  child  was  born  in  Poland,  Re- 
becca was  her  nurse ;  but  Mrs.  Salmon,  falling 
into  bad  health  immediately  after  the  birth  of  the 
child,  she  implored  her  husband  to  permit  her  to 
return  to  England,  and  to  her  mother.  Salmon 
saw  that  she  was  not  happy  with  him  ;  and  the 
strange  suspicion  seized  him,  as  there  was  little 
tie  between  him  and  his  wife,  that  in  case  his 
own  child  died,  she  might  palm  another  upon 
him, — to  prevent  which,  he  branded  the  babe 
with  the  figure  of  a  palm  branch,  and  sent  her 
home,  with  Rebecca  and  Jacob,  who  were  both 
Jews,  to  watch  her ;  though  there  was  no  need, 
12 


134  SHANTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

as  Rachel  was  a  simple,  harmless  creature.  She 
was  also  in  very  bad  health  when  she  reached 
England,  and  scarcely  survived  her  mother  three 
days,  and  during  that  time  hardly  asked  for  her 
child ;  and  the  artful  servants  had  contrived  to 
make  their  master  believe  that  the  baby  had 
proved  a  sickly,  deformed  creature,  and  had  died, 
and  been  buried  in  the  coffin  with  its  mother. 

Salmon  was  in  Poland  when  all  these  horrors 
occurred,  and  there  Jacob  and  Rebecca  found 
him  ;  and  having  now  no  other  object,  he  devo- 
ted himself  entirely  to  amassing  riches,  passing 
from  one  state  of  covetousness  to  another,  till  at 
length  he  began  to  fall  into  the  dotage  of  avarice, 
which  consists  in  laying  up  money  for  the  sake 
of  laying  up,  and  delighting  in  the  view  of  hoards 
of  gold  and  precious  things.  With  this  madness 
in  his  mind,  he  turned  much  of  his  property  into 
jewels,  and  returning  to  England,  he  began  to 
look  about  for  a  safe  place  wherein  he  might  de- 
posit his  treasures.  But,  as  a  Jew,  he  could  not 
possess  land  ;  he  therefore  passed  the  form  of 
naturalization,  and  whilst  looking  about  for  a 
situation  in  which  he  might  dwell  in  safety,  his 
character  and  circumstances  became  in  part 
known  to  the  gipsies,  (who,  amongst  other 
thieves,  always  have  their  eyes  on  those  who  are 
supposed  to  carry  valuables  about  them, )and  the 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  135 

man  called  Harefoot,  formed  the  plan  of  getting 
him  and  his  treasiires  into  Dymock's  Tower. 
This  Harefoot  was  the  nephew  of  the  woman 
who  had  brought  Tamar  to  Shanty's  ;  and  the 
old  miser,  being  tempted  by  the  moat,  and  other 
circumstances  of  the  place,  fell  into  the  snare 
which  had  been  thus  skilfully  laid  for  him.  It 
was  not  till  after  Salmon  had  come  to  the  Tower, 
tliat  tlie  connection  between  Salmon  and  Tamar 
was  discovered  by  the  old  woman ;  and  it  was  at 
this  time  that  she  contrived  to  meet  Tamar,  and 
to  convey  the  notion  to  her,  that  she  was  of  a 
gipsy  family ;  fearing  lest  she  should,  by  any 
means,  be  led  to  an  explanation  with  Salmon,  be- 
fore her  nephew  and  his  gang  had  made  sure  o  f 
the  treasure.  Harefoot  had  supposed  that  he  and 
his  gang  were  the  only  persons  who  knew  of  the 
secret  passage  ;  and  the  reason  why  they  had 
not  made  the  attempt  of  robbing  Salmon  by 
that  passage  sooner,  was  simply  this,  that  Hare- 
foot, having  been  detected  in  some  small  offence 
in  some  distant  county,  had  been  confined  several 
weeks  in  a  house  of  correction,  from  which  he 
had  not  been  set  free  many  days  before  he  came 
to  the  moor,  and  took  upon  himself  the  conduct 
of  the  plot  for  robbing  Salmon. 

What  Jacob  and  Rebecca's  plans  were  did  not 
appear,  or  wherefore  they  had  not  only  fallen  in 


136  SHANTY  THE   BLACKSMITH; 

with,  but  promoted  the  settlement  of  their  master 
in  the  Tower;  but  that  their  object  was  aseltish 
one  cannot  be  doubted. 

Had  other  conhrmation  been  wanting,  after 
the  mark  on  Tamar's  shoulder  had  been  ac- 
knowledged, the  vagrant  added  it,  by  producing 
a  clasp  of  one  armlet,  which  she  had  retained, 
and  carried  about  with  her  in  a  leathern  bag, 
amongst  sundry  other  heterogeneous  relics  ;  and 
she  accounted  for  having  preserved  it,  from  the 
fear  she  had  of  exposing  a  cypher  wrought  on  a 
precious  stone,  which  might,  she  thought,  lead 
to  detection. 

A  dreadful  hue  and  cry  in  the  court  below, 
soon  after  this  disturbed  the  conference.  All 
seemed  confusion  and  uproar ;  Dymock  and 
Shanty  rushed  down  stairs,  and  aunt  ^largaret 
and  Tamar  ran  out  to  the  window  in  the  nearest 
passage  ;  there  they  learnt  that  the  prisoners 
had  broken  the  bars  of  their  dungeon,  swam 
the  moat,  and  fled ;  and  the  ladies  could  see  the 
peasants  in  pursuit,  scouring  over  the  moor, 
whilst  those  they  were  pursuing  were  scarcely 
visible. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Tamar,  "  I  should  re- 
joice in  their  escape,  they  will  trouble  us  no 
more  ;  and  oh,  my  dear  mother,  I  would  not, 
that  one  sad  heart,  sliould  now  mix  itself  with 
our  joyful  ones  !'' 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  137 

Mrs.  Margaret  and  Tamar  stood  at  the  window 
till  they  saw  the  pursuers  turning  back  to  the 
castle,  some  of  them  not  being  sorry  in  their 
hearts,  at  the  escape  of  the  rogues,  but  the  mos^ 
remarkable  part  of  the  story  was,  that  whilst 
they  had  all  been  thus  engaged,  the  woman  had 
also  made  off,  and,  though  probably  not  in  com- 
pany with  her,  that  most  excellent  and  faithful 
creature  Rebecca,  neither  of  whom  were  ever 
heard  of  again. 

And  now  none  were  left,  but  those  who  hoped 
to  live  and  die  in  each  other's  company,  but  these 
were  soon  joined  by  the  magistrates  and  legal 
powers,  who  had  been  summoned  from  the  near- 
est town,  together  with  people  from  all  quarters, 
who  flocked  to  hear  and  learn  what  was  ffoinff 
forward  ;  and  here  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be 
lost  by  Dymock  and  Shanty,  of  telling  the  won- 
derful tale,  and  old  Salmon  having  been  recruited 
with  some  small  nourishment,  admijiistercd  by 
Mrs.  Margaret,  presented  his  daughter  to  the 
whole  assembly,  and  being  admonished  by  Shan- 
ty, placed  in  her  hands  before  them,  the  deed  of 
transfer  of  the  lands  and  castle  of  Dymock,  which 
in  fact  to  him,  was  but  a  drop  in  the  ocean  of  his 
wealth. 

As  she  received  this  deed,  she  fell  oru)ne  knee, 
and    kissed    her  venerable  father's  hand,  after 
\2' 


138  SIIANTV  THE   BL  \CK>MITII  : 

which  he  raised  and  embraced  her,  paternal  af- 
fection and  paternal  pride  acting  like  the  genial 
warmth  of  the  sun,  in  thawing  the  frost  of  his 
heart  and  frame.  She  had  whispered  something 
whilst  he  kissed  her,  and  as  his  answer  had 
been  favorable,  she  turned  to  Dymock,  and  now 
bending  on  both  knees,  she  placed  the  deed  in  liis 
hands,  her  sweet  face  at  the  same  time  being  all 
moist  with  gushing  tears,  falling  upon  her  adopt- 
ed father's  hand. 

Shanty  in  his  apron  and  unshorn  chin,  ex- 
plained to  those  about,  what  had  been  done;  for 
they,  that  is  the  Laird,  Aunt  Margaret,  Salmon, 
and  Tamar,  were  standing  on  the  elevated  plat- 
form, at  the  door  of  the  Tower  :  and  then  arose 
such  shouts  and  acclamations  from  one  and  all, 
as  made  the  whole  castle  ring  again,  and  one  voice 
in  particular  arose  above  the  rest,  crying,  "  Our 
Laird  has  got  his  own  again,  and  blessing  be  on 
her  who  gave  it  him." 

*' Rather  bless  Him,"  cried  Shanty,  "wlio  has 
thus  brought  order  out  of  confusion,  to  Him  be 
the  glory  given  in  every  present  Iiappiness,  as  in 
all  that  we  are  assured  of  in  the  future." 

As  there  were  no  means  of  regaling  those 
present  at  that  time,  and  as  Mr.  Salmon  was 
then  too  confused  to  do  that  wliich  he  ought  to 
have  done,  in  rewarding  those  who  had  defended 


A  TALE  OF    OTHER  TIMES.  139 

liim,  most  of  tliem  being  poor  people,  ihey 
were  dismissed  with  an  invitation  to  a  future 
meeting  at  the  Tower ;  two  or  three  gentlemen, 
friends  of  Dymock,  only  being  left.  Much 
consultation  then  ensued,  whilst  Mrs.  Margaret 
bestirred  herself,  to  procure  female  assistance, 
and  to  provide  the  best  meal,  which  could  be  had 
at  a  short  notice. 

During  this  conference  with  the  Laird  and  his 
friends,  all  of  whom  were  honorable  men,  Mr. 
Salmon  was  induced  to  consent  to  have  his  trea- 
sures, his  bonds,  his  notes  and  bills,  consigned 
to  such  keeping  as  was  judged  most  safe;  neither 
could  these  matters  be  settled,  wiihout  a  journey 
to  town,  in  which  Dymock  accompanied  him, 
toorether  with  a  leoral  friend  of  the  latter  of  known 
respectability.  We  do  not  enter  into  the  particu- 
lars of  tliis  journey,  but  merely  say,  that  Mr. 
Salmon  in  the  joy,  and  we  ma}^  add,  thankfulness 
of  recovering  his  child,  not  only  permitted  him- 
self to  be  advised,  but  whilst  in  town  made  his 
will,  by  which,  he  left  all  he  possessed  to  his 
dauo^hter,  and  tiiis  beino;  concluded  to  the  satis- 
faction  of  all  concerned,  he  returned  to  Dymock's 
Tower,   laden  with  presents  for  Mrs.  Margaret. 

Neither  were  Shanty's  services  overlooked  ; 
the  cottage  and  land  appertaining  thereunto,  were 
to  be  his  for  life,   free  from  rent  and  dues,  to- 


140  SH\NTY  THE  BLACKSMITH  ; 

gether  with  twenty  pounds  a  year,  in  considera- 
tion of  his  never-varying  kindness  to  Taniar. 

The  old  man  wept,  when  told  of  what  was 
done  for  him,  and  himself  went  the  next  day  to 
Morpeth,  to  bring  from  thence  a  sister,  nearly  as 
old  as  himself,  who  was  living  there  in  hard  ser- 
vice. 

And  here  the  memorandum  from  which  this 
story  is  derived,  becomes  less  particular  in  the 
details. 

It  speaks  of  Mr.  Salmon  after  the  various  ex- 
ertions he  had  made,  (these  exertions  having  been 
as  it  was  supposed  succeeded  by  a  stroke,)  sink- 
ing almost  immediately  into  a  state  nearly  child- 
ish, during  which,  however,  it  was  a  very  great 
delight  to  Tamar,  to  perceive  in  the  very  midst 
of  this  intellectual  ruin  an  awakening  to  things 
spiritual ;  so  that  it  woultl  seem,  as  if  the  things 
hidden  from  liim  in  the  days  of  human  prudence 
and  wisdom,  were  now  made  manifest  to  him,  in 
the  period  of  almost  second  childishness. 

Tamar  had  been  enabled  to  imbibe  the  purest 
Christian  principles,  in  her  early  youth, for  which, 
humanly  speaking,  she  owed  much  to  Shanty, 
and  she  now  with  the  assistance  of  the  kind  old 
man,  labored  incessantly,  to  bring  her  father  to 
the  Messiah  of  the  Christians,  as  the  only  hope 
and  rest  of  his  soul  ;  and  she  had  reason  before 


A  TALE  OF  OTHER  TIMES.  141 

her  father  died,  to  hope  that  her  hibors  had  not 
been  without  fruit.  As  to  vvorhlly  pelf,  siie  had 
it  in  rich  abundance,  but  she  couhl  have  little 
personal  enjoyment  of  it  whilst  shut  up  with 
her  aged  father  in  Dymock's  Tower,  yet  she  had 
exquisite  delight  in  hiiiiioring  therewith,  tiie 
fancies  of  D>«iock,  and  administering  to  the 
more  sober  and  benevolent  plans  of  Mrs.  Marga- 
ret; for  this  lady's  principal  delight  was,  to  as- 
sist the  needy,  and  her  only  earthly  or  worldly 
caprice,  that  of  restoring  the  Tower  and  i*s  envi- 
rons, and  furnishing,  to  what  she  conceived  had 
been  its  state,  in  the,  perhaps,  imaginary  days 
of  the  exaltation  of  the  Dymocks. 

A  splendid  feast  in  the  hails  of  Dymock's 
Tower,  is  also  spoken  of,  as  having  taken  place, 
soon  lifter  the  retnrn  of  the  Laird  from  London, 
from  which,  not  a  creature  dwelling  on  the  moor 
was  absent,  when  Salmon  directed  Tamar  to  re- 
ward those  persons  who  had  assisted  him  in  his 
greatest  need,  and  when  Mrs.  Margaret  added 
numbers  of  coats  and  garments  to  those  that  were 
destitute-  Dymock  in  his  joy  of  heart,  caused 
the  plough  to  be  brought  forward,  and  fixed  upon 
a  table  in  tlie  hali,  for  every  one  to  see  that  day, 
Mrs.  Margaret  having  been  obliged  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  it  was  this  same  plough,  which  had 
turned  up  the  vein  of  gold,  in  which  all  present 
weie  rejoicing. 


142  SHANTY  THE   BLACKSMITH. 

VViih  the  notice  of  this  feast  the  history  ter- 
minates, and  here  the  writer  conckides  with  a 
single  sentiment, — that  ahhough  a  work  of  kind- 
ness wrought  in  the  fear  of  God,  as  imparted  by 
the  Lord,  the  Spirit — seldom  produces  such  a 
manifest  reward,  as  it  did  in  the  case  of  Mrs. 
Margaret  and  her  nephew,  for  the  race  is  not  al- 
ways to  the  swift,  nor  the  burthen  to  the  strong, 
yet,  even  under  this  present  imperfect  dispensa- 
tion, there  is  a  peace  above  all  price,  accompa- 
nying every  act,  which  draws  a  creature  out  of 
self,  to  administer  to  the  necessities  of  others, 
whenever  these  acts  are  performed  in  faith,  and 
with  a  continual  reference  to  the  pleasure  of  God, 
and  without  view  to  heaping  up  merits,  which  is 
a  principle  entirely  adverse  to  anything  like  a 
correct  knowledge  of  salvation  by  the  Lord  the 
Savior. 


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